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by gaysadandtired



Series: NCT + WayV Collection [22]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Death, Dysfunctional Family, Getting Back Together, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Runaway Taeyong, Small Towns, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Wakes & Funerals, this is me trying to explain my love hatred relationship with my parents by projecting onto taeyong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27533932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaysadandtired/pseuds/gaysadandtired
Summary: Taeyong ran away. Home no longer felt safe, and there was nothing else he could have done. He left everything behind. Even the one person he ever truly loved.Ten years later, he comes back, saying his last goodbye to his parents.
Relationships: Lee Taeyong/Qian Kun
Series: NCT + WayV Collection [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639213
Comments: 10
Kudos: 55





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Be mindful of the tags.  
> I've made a [ Spotify ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Wp8JrGXEACsE4IuCaQvnw?si=wgVmjsVBQHiVKis9n9eRgA) playlist for this (hope the link works)  
> Enjoy

Kun stood facing the calm sea, waves softly crashing against the pale sand at the shore with a steady hum. The early morning sun was reflecting in the water, the sea painted a warm shade of orange and pink, easily being one of Kun’s favourite sights in the world. There was no other place that could ever match the sheer beauty of his small home town by the coast. Maybe he hadn’t seen much of the world, but he knew for a fact that that was true. 

Getting up early was the norm for Kun, even on the days he didn’t have to go to work. Some would say that it was pointless to get up at the crack of dawn, but Kun would argue otherwise. He would much rather get up with the birds and get to witness the heavenly views outside than to stay in bed for a few more hours. 

To Kun, it was always worth it. It had been for years. The habit developed at a young age – somewhere around the time he was eleven – and it had stuck with him ever since, now over ten years since then. He didn’t remember how it really started, nor did he really care, because whenever he found himself staring out to the horizon, his heart felt at peace and all the thoughts swimming around in his head came to a stop, offering the man a moment of tranquillity. 

Some days he needed that more than anything. A moment to breath and to be still was so hard to come by, even in a town as small as the one he called home. There was always something going on, and as much as Kun loved the close-knit community that felt like an extension of his family, he also sometimes wished he could be left alone by the beach, staring aimlessly at the rise and fall of the peaceful waves. 

So, before the day came to an official start, he would stand and watch, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart and breathing, as well as the delicate sounds of nature around him. 

But he also couldn’t stand for too long. 

Kun had agreed to take Doyoung and Doyoung’s younger brother – Renjun – out to the bustling city a good thirty minutes ride by car. It was to get a present for their mother’s upcoming birthday, and since neither of the two siblings could drive, Doyoung had the option of asking either Taeil or Kun, and since Taeil’s car was currently out of service, the job of being the chauffer landed on Kun after all. 

The three men were supposed to meet by Doyoung’s home, so Kun decided to make a move on, lest he be late and earn himself a litany of gripes and whines from Doyoung. 

Kun made his way over to his friend’s house, knocking on the front door before stepping back to wait. 

There was some shuffling and rustling from the other side, as well as a couple of groans from inside. Kun chuckled, recognising the tone the siblings used to bicker with one another. It was amusing to hear really, especially since Doyoung was the same age as Kun yet he acted like such a child around his younger brother. It was cute though; Kun enjoyed listening in on the bickering as long as it didn’t involve him. 

Finally, the door swung open revealing two figures. Doyoung was wrapped up, protecting himself from the early spring chill. Kun had grown accustomed to the climate over the years, but he couldn't deny just how cold it could truly get. 

“Did you bring your wallet?” Renjun asked his brother as the men filtered out of their house. 

“No, you can pay,” Doyoung replied. “You can’t mooch off me forever. Get a job.” 

“I’m sixteen!” 

“That’s old enough,” Doyoung argued. “Look at Kun here, he worked when he was fifteen. Didn’t you?” 

“I don’t wanna get involved, but yes, I worked. For a month,” Kun replied. “I spent my pay on snacks, music and a magazine. Then it was gone.” 

Doyoung rolled his eyes. “You’re so much help, aren’t you?” 

Kun shrugged. “Are you done arguing or do you need a moment.” 

“We’re done,” Doyoung replied, locking the door behind himself. 

“Wait!” Renjun said. “Did you actually bring your wallet?” 

“Yes,” Doyoung replied, pocketing the key in the inside pocket of his coat. 

With that settled, Kun led the two to his car parked nearby. The men lived close, only a five minute walk away, so whilst Doyoung suggested they met up at Kun’s place, Kun was adamant on him going over to his friend’s place instead, mentioning he wanted to take his early morning walk as always. 

The trio found themselves in Kun’s car soon enough. Though Renjun fought for the front seat beside Kun, Doyoung pulled him back before he could sit down and forced the younger brother to sit at the back. He made sure to make note that “the front is for grownups.” That just made Renjun frown, crossing his arms over his chest as he bore holes into the back of Doyoung’s head. 

“Behave,” Kun warned as he turned the engine on. “If you argue and I crash that’s on _you_.” 

“You won’t crash,” Doyoung said. “But Renjun, you heard that? Keep your mouth shut for the ride.” 

Renjun was about to speak up but Kun stopped him and Doyoung from starting bickering again by turning on the radio, loud enough to drown out the men’s muttering. Once the siblings were quiet, Kun turned the volume to his liking, playing one of his favourite radio stations as background noise for the journey. 

Kun pulled out onto the main road after a short two or three minutes of riding through narrow streets. 

He enjoyed driving, finding a pleasure in driving down the calm, binding roads of the local area. It was another opportunity apart from going down to the shore that allowed Kun to relax. He liked the sound of the car’s wheels along the path, how he felt so in control with the world so easily accessible to him. 

“Have you thought of any gifts yet?” Kun asked, taking a glance of his friend. 

“Probably perfume or something like that,” Doyoung replied, his eyes directed to the coastline outside of the window. “The nurses at the hospital made sure to mention she’s been circling a few items in her magazines. I think she knows what she wants.” 

Kun chuckled. “I’m sure she does. But I’m sure she’ll like whatever you two get her.” 

Doyoung hummed in acknowledgment. “Thanks, by the way,” he added. “I'll pay you back for the gas.” 

“It’s fine,” Kun assured. “I could do with a day out too. But, if you insist, you can always treat me to a meal.” At that, Kun blew a wink at his friend, causing Doyoung to feign a gag, all whilst Renjun watched in horror. 

“Will you two stop flirting?” The youngest asked. 

“Why? Are you jealous? Scared I’ll steal Doyoung from you?” Kun asked, looking over to Renjun. The teen scrunched his face in disgust. 

“Eww, no. You can take him,” Renjun said. “Just stop being disgusting in front of me.” 

Kun laughed, turning back to face the road. He knew the path like the back of his hand, and though it was empty and the weather condition was fine, Kun preferred to have his eyes glued to the road more often than not. 

“Who says I want him?” Doyoung muttered. 

The driver scoffed, placing one hand over his heart in disbelief. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’ll have you know I’m a catch.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Doyoung dismissed with a roll of his eyes. 

Kun scoffed. “Rude. Literally what else could you possibly want? I have a job, a house, a car, what else do you need?” 

“Stop,” Renjun called out. 

“I’m not flirting-” 

“Stop,” Renjun repeated, this time with sheer panic in his voice. 

Doyoung and Kun looked at each other, their expressions similar. They were both worried for the youngest, and so Kun carefully pulled over, stopping the car. As soon as he did that, Renjun opened the door, stepping outside in a hurry. 

“Renjun wait!” Doyoung shouted, rushing out of the car to run after his brother. 

Kun did the same, following after the two. He chased after the two, running down the road they just drove down, only to slow down as he saw what Renjun had hurried over. 

Between the few trees lining the side of the road, down a small ditch, was a wreck. Kun recognised the car straight away, the small sticker on the bumper, left there by one of the kids in the neighbourhood, gave it all away. 

The totalled car belonged to none other than the Lee family. 

Kun had last seen them a week ago when the married couple had set off for their short vacation. 

So, Kun just stood there in the middle of the road, knowing full well that the people inside were far gone already. He stared, unsure as to what exactly it was that he was feeling. He understood that in situations such as the one he had found himself in, most people would have been stricken with grief or horror simply at the sight of the mess and the knowledge that someone had died. 

But Kun wasn’t sure if he felt grief or horror or anything in between. 

What he felt was probably best described as apathy. 

The relationship Kun had with the Lee’s was complicated – far more than anyone could possibly comprehend. 

However, as he stood there, looking at the wreckage, his feelings unclear, all Kun could think of was a single face. 

He thought of a boy he hadn’t seen in years, wondering how he would look once he found out what had happened to his parents. 

Kun pictured Taeyong – the same one he knew growing up – and he wondered, would he feel just the same as Kun? 

*** 

“He’s so sweet,” Mrs Lee cooed, her head tilted to the side as she looked at seven-year-old Kun. “So polite too,” she added, completely in awe of the boy. 

Kun wasn’t the shy type. He always played with his friends back home, and though he had a tendency to be awkward around adults, he always put up a brave face to impress everyone around himself.

But that wasn’t so easy now; moving to a completely different country, barely knowing the language apart from what he was taught in the three months before their big move, as well as being ripped away from everyone he knew and was close too, scared him. He grew shy, keeping his head hung low as the people around him spoke things he couldn’t quite understand yet. 

He had a basic understanding, picking out a few words here and there. 

The Lee’s lived in the nearest house to the one Kun’s family moved into. The properties were large and fairly decently spread apart, each household in that part of the coastal town having plenty of space and land. 

The new house was a great improvement from what Kun had spent the first seven years of his life in. It was spacious, his own bedroom doubling what he was used to before. He liked it – who wouldn’t? But that didn’t mean he was fully comfortable with the stark contrast between the new and the old. 

Kun’s mother spoke, and so did his father. The two families chatted away with Kun glued to his mum’s side, sitting on the woman’s lap. There was nothing else for him to do, and though he was offered to play with some toys scattered around the Lee’s house, Kun settled on sticking to his parents, finding the greatest comfort there. 

After what felt like far too long, with the two married couples going on and on about the great big move and the beautiful town, the people living around the place, and much more, the front doors swung right open and a bright and chipper voice called out. 

“I’m home!” The young voice announced. “Doyoung’s mum taught us how to sew,” the boy continued, walking further into the house, his voice becoming louder as he neared the living room everyone was congregated in. As soon as he poked through the doorway, the boy’s eyes went wide, his mouth a small ‘o’ shape at the sight of other people. “We have guests?” He asked. 

Mrs Lee ushered the young boy over, holding onto his hand as he stood by her side. “Taeyongie, dear,” she said softly. “They are our new neighbours: the Qian’s. Why don’t you say hello?” 

Taeyong looked over at the family of three, a light glimmer in his eyes. They held joy and wonder, not a single hint of anything impure hidden within those large, doe eyes. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” the boy said, bowing politely, a kind and wide smile across his face. “I’m Lee Taeyong. I’m happy to be your new neighbour.” He finished by standing straight, his hands joined behind his back, his expression beaming and charming. 

When Kun saw him then, he thought that Taeyong was interesting. He was curious, drawn in by Taeyong’s sweet voice and demeanour, feeling a comforting aura from the boy. In a land so strange and new, seeing Taeyong was like finding a safe place, knowing that that smile was genuine and that Kun could reach out to the boy. 

“It’s so nice to meet you, Taeyong,” Kun’s mother said. “Aren’t you the sweetest young boy.” 

Taeyong grinned. He then looked over to Kun, tilting his head to the side. “What’s your name?” He asked. 

Some of his apprehension melting away, Kun looked up. “Kun,” he replied. 

“Hi, Kun! Do you have any friends here?” 

Kun took a second to reply, having to think about the question, picking out the key words of the question. He was slow, but Taeyong waited, his smile never disappearing. 

The boy shook his head no. 

“No? In that case, I’ll be your friend,” Taeyong declared. “I’ll be your best friend! The best friend you’ll ever have.” 

The parents of the two boys cooed and chuckled at Taeyong’s cute declaration. Back then, they didn’t truly comprehend the weight of Taeyong’s words which at the time sounded nothing more than kids being kids. They never quite understood just how true Taeyong’s promise would be. 

“I’m sure Kun will love to be your friend,” Mr Qian said to Taeyong. “But you might need to a bit patient with him. You see, he’s still learning the language.” 

Taeyong shook his head. “That’s okay,” he said happily. “I’ll teach him. Should we play?” 

Kun’s face was blank, looking up at his mum who whispered to him, urging the boy to go join Taeyong. The younger of the two boys finally stood up, feeling awkward with everyone looking at him. 

Any sense of unease vanished when Taeyong reached for the boy’s hand, holding onto it. “Let’s go,” Taeyong said, leading Kun out to the corridor where he took him up the stairs and into his bedroom. 

Despite the language barrier, the two boys managed to play without much trouble. Kun even learned a few new words: car, aeroplane, train, firefighter, bike and ball. 

Spending hours and hours playing with Taeyong made him feel like nothing had really changed. It didn’t seem like he was in a foreign country with nobody by his side. 

That day, Kun met Taeyong. 

He made a friend. 

*** 

“It’s not pretty,” Yuta said, handing Kun a mug of freshly brewed coffee before he sat down opposite him. “At least they died instantly. The whiplash spared them the agony.” 

Kun sighed. Yuta was blunt normally, but the way he spoke so nonchalantly about death always felt weird. Of course, Kun knew Yuta had seen death since he was a child, such were the joys of living in a funeral home, but that still didn’t mean hearing Yuta speak of death with such ease wasn’t somewhat unsettling. 

But Kun also admired his friend; he did the job that had to be done but not many people were willing to do. 

Once the ambulance arrived at the scene, Kun caught a glimpse of the bodies being pulled out. No matter what he felt towards the two now deceased individuals, the sight still was beyond horrible. Kun wanted to be sick, having to look away before his breakfast came up his throat. Seeing a real corpse was so much different to seeing one on screen in a movie, and Kun simply didn’t have the strength to stomach it. 

The deceased couple was transported and the crime scene was investigated. The cause of dead was clear, and with no signs of anyone else being involved in the incident, the deaths were classed as an unfortunate accident. They were so close to being home, but something just went wrong, be it the driver not paying attention and having something jump out of the road in a split second, or the wheels slipping. 

It was definitely the talk of the town. 

But such was the deal with small communities; everyone knew everything, and losses such as the one of the Lee’s was felt all throughout the community. It also didn’t help that Mr Lee was practically everyone’s dentist, and Mrs Lee was the face everyone saw around town, always finding the woman in the same places at the same times, doing all of her domestic chores. 

Kun couldn’t deny that the death of the couple was a tragic one, even if he himself had mixed feelings towards the two. Death was still death, and saying that he was glad or that he had wished for it would have been too heartless, so unlike Kun. Even in disdain, Kun couldn’t be happy. When so many were grieving, Kun stayed silent, keeping his own feelings towards the two to himself. 

“I just feel sorry Renjun,” Kun said, looking down at his drink, taking a small sip before placing it down on the small table in between Yuta and himself. “He’s seen so much death already and he’s still so young.” 

Yuta hummed in acknowledgment. 

Doyoung’s family had unfortunately gone through a lot in just one year, from Doyoung’s and Renjun’s father passing away from a long and taxing battle with cancer, to their grandparents also sadly passing away – though peacefully, and then the hospitalisation of their mother, forcing Doyoung to move back in to their old family home to take care of Renjun, they had quite a tough time. And Renjun had to withstand so much; Kun honestly felt so bad for him, doing whatever he could to help. 

“It’s different when you grow up around death,” Yuta stated. “You grow desensitised to it, but you still respect it. I just hope it doesn’t end up affecting him too negatively.” 

Kun nodded. 

The men didn’t have a real reason for meeting up other than Kun feeling like he had some sort of obligation to see what condition the Lee’s were in. As Doyoung took care of Renjun, Kun felt the need to check up on the deceased, and Yuta gladly let him into his family home, knowing that Kun probably had some ulterior motives. He didn’t mind though, letting Kun in like he always had done. 

“Are they having a funeral?” Kun asked, leaning back in his seat. “I mean, I know they’re having a burial, but like, an actual ceremony.” 

“Should be,” Yuta replied. “They had life insurance so there’s no problem about that. It’s the will that’s the issue really.” 

“Did they not have one?” 

“Oh, they did,” the mortician answered. “But I heard that they haven’t made any changes since they first wrote it.” 

“So?” 

“So,” Yuta said, crossing his legs over. “Someone has to find Taeyong.” 

Of course. Kun didn’t think of the possibility, as obvious as it may have seemed. He just assumed that the Lee’s would have tried to erase their son and only child from their family in every way possible, so hearing that he was still in their wills was somewhat of a surprise. 

Kun didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. For all he knew, they might have left him with any debts they had, or only mentioned him to give the boy – well, now man, he wasn’t the same age as when Kun saw him last – a one, final fuck you. 

“Did they leave him anything?” 

Yuta shrugged. “Not sure. The lawyer is still going over the documents, but we should know soon. Maybe we’ll even get to see Taeyong soon,” he added, offering Kun a gentle smile. “That wouldn’t be all bad, would it?” 

Kun didn’t reply. He didn’t know how or what to say in response. 

Nearly a decade down the line, Kun still had no clue as to what he wanted to say. When they parted ways, Kun was left in shock, hurt and speechless. He hoped and waited to see Taeyong again, waiting and hoping, day in and day out. Waiting and hoping to see his best friend again. 

Though he would say he was over it, the truth wasn’t quite as simple. 

Somewhere, deep inside, Kun was still waiting and hoping and praying for Taeyong to come back. To that day, he still wished that Taeyong would come back home. That he’d come back to him. 

“No,” Kun agreed. “It wouldn’t be that bad.” 

“Do you think he’ll come, though?” 

The man in question glanced down to his hands, playing with the cuticles at his thumb. “That’s the million-dollar question. Will he, or will he not? Guess we’ll find out soon, won’t we?” 

*** 

“It’s freezing,” Kun complained, hugging himself as the harsh October wind nipped at any slither of exposed skin. “Can’t we just play inside?” He asked, grumbling as his teeth kept chattering. It was far too early and far too cold for Kun’s liking, yet he still let Taeyong drag him out at the crack of dawn for whatever reason. 

Kun didn’t even know why he agreed in the first place, but then again, Taeyong always managed to get what he wanted from Kun. Taeyong had a way to convince Kun into anything, and waking up before sunrise to go stand at the shore with brutal winds attacking them from every which way was just one of the many stupid things Kun had done for his best friend. 

However, whilst the conditions weren’t favourable, Kun wasn’t actually complaining. He found that impossible when it came to anything regarding Taeyong. Four years into their friendship and Kun had yet to find any faults with the older boy. Taeyong could end up throwing a stone at Kun’s window in the middle of the night – which Taeyong had done once before, trying to sneak in to cheer Kun up after he broke his arm – to get him to wake up and force him out to do nothing more than play games in their secret hiding spot and Kun would blindly accept, no matter what. 

Such was the nature of their friendship. 

The two went along with whatever the other had to say. So, Kun somehow ended up agreeing to their early morning meeting for what? The details were hazy too him, saying yes to Taeyong’s abrupt idea when he was half asleep, too tired to think after a long day of running around and playing with Taeyong and their other friends which stopped by for the Halloween party at Kun’s home. Taeyong was the only of the friend group to stay over the night, but he practically always did that at any given chance, but then again, Kun did the same – though he stayed at Taeyong’s place less often those days after Taeyong’s parents made an off comment at how the boys were too old for sleepovers. 

That didn’t stop Taeyong, though. 

“It’s not that cold,” Taeyong said, shivering just as much as Kun was. 

“It is,” Kun whined. “What are we even doing?” 

“Seeing something cool,” the older boy replied enthusiastically. He was clutching onto a pair of binoculars he had brought with him the day before. Kun looked down at the goggles, his brows furrowing at the side. 

“Why’d you bring that?” 

“To see the cool thing! Keep up, Kunkun.” 

The younger rolled his eyes. “When is this cool thing showing up then?” 

Glancing to the watch on his wrist – the device bearing the likeness of a cartoon character popular at the time on the shield – Taeyong hummed. He read the numbers carefully, wiping at the glass to clean it off. 

“Five minutes,” Taeyong stated, earning a groan from Kun. “Oh don’t be like that! It’s just five minutes.” 

“But I’m cold,” Kun complained, scrunching his face. “Yongie, I’m cold.” 

“Such a baby,” the older teased, a playful smile on his lips. “Want me to warm you up? I know a way.” 

“Going home? Yes please.” 

Before Kun could turn on his heel to walk off, Taeyong laughed and grabbed onto his wrist, halting the younger from heading back to the comfort of his home. 

“Not yet,” Taeyong said, shaking his head. “But I have a way to get warm.” 

“What is it then?” 

“I’ll be a monster and you have to run away,” Taeyong said. “Run!” 

“Huh?” 

“Five, four, three,” Taeyong counted down. 

Kun had to process what was happening, the cold slowing down the functions of his brain. However, he understood what was happening soon enough. A grin found its way onto his face as he ran back a bit, creating a large gap between himself and Taeyong. 

Once Taeyong finally counted down to one, he ran right at Kun. The younger instantly moved, running with a flurry of giggles escaping him. 

Running around like headless chickens managed to keep Kun’s mind off the freezing temperature, his body warming up significantly in all the layers of clothing he had put on before even thinking of stepping out of his front doors. 

Kun stumbled in the sand, nearly falling face first. Taeyong saved him, wrapping his arms around Kun’s middle quickly, his face buried in the thick padding in the boy’s coat. 

“Got ya,” Taeyong exclaimed happily. 

“Only because I tripped,” Kun argued. 

“That’s your fault. I still won.” 

“Okay, okay,” Kun agreed. “You won. Now let me go.” 

Taeyong did as told, unwrapping himself from his friend. “So, did that warm you up?” 

The younger shrugged. “I guess. How long’s left?” 

Taeyong looked back at his watch, eyes wide as he read the time. “Now!” He said, running to grab the goggles he let go off before he started chasing after Kun. He cleared them off sand, holding onto Kun’s wrist as he pulled the boy closer to himself. Taeyong looked through the goggles, watching out on the horizon, his smile slowly growing. “It’s there,” he stated, handing the goggles over to Kun. “Look.” 

Kun took hold of the binoculars, bringing them over to his face. He looked through, seeing a large ship through the lenses. 

“Woah,” Kun uttered in awe. “Is that a cargo ship?” 

“Military ship,” Taeyong corrected. “Doyoung’s dad works on one of those.” 

“His dad’s there?” Kun asked, looking over to his friend with the goggles, jumping back when Taeyong’s face was zoomed in to an extreme. 

Taeyong shook his head. “Not that one. But one like it. It’s cool, right? They have planes there too.” 

“Cool,” Kun said, looking back at the ship. The sheer size of the vessel left him in awe, only ever seeing such things on a screen and never in person. “How did you know about this?” 

“Doyoung,” the older replied. “His dad told him and he told me. And now, I told you.” Taeyong grinned at Kun who passed over the goggles. “You like it?” 

Kun nodded. 

“There should be another one come by next month. Wanna come see it again?” 

And of course, Kun said yes as he always did. He agreed for next month, and to the other impromptu mornings out on the beach, playing tag when everyone was still asleep just in case they could spot another ship on the days in between. They never did – at least not one quite as impressive as the military ships – but that didn’t make their mornings together any less fun and exciting. 

Even when they had school that day, the boys would meet up early to watch out for ships on the horizon. After a point they didn’t bother bringing the binoculars, only meeting early for the sake of spending more time together. They would end up walking down in the direction of their school, taking the path that allowed them to stay on the sand for the most amount of time, always joking how they’d end up throwing one another into the water after one of them made a terrible joke or said something that riled the other up. 

It was their routine, and nobody dared to question it, even in winter, even in rain. 

*** 

Less than a week had passed since the death of the Lee’s. The community was still grieving, everyone helping out in the preparations for the funeral set to take place within the month – probably within the next two weeks since nobody wanted to drag the date out any further. Whenever Kun drove past the spot on the road where the car crashed, he would see flowers left around the tree right next to the area of the accident. Some people even left candles, and whilst that was a sweet act from the community as a whole, Kun couldn’t think like it was a waste; if people wanted to leave gifts and prayers, they could have surely waited until the funeral to do so. 

But alas, people did what they did to cope or to seem like they cared. Of course, Kun wasn’t doubting that there were individuals who were truly sad by what had happened, but he was sceptical about the severity of how much some people cared. He couldn’t judge though, and he didn’t plan on doing so. 

Kun closed the hood of his car, two shopping bags in hand as he walked over to his front porch. He fiddled with the keys, the multitude of keyrings making the task at hand much harder than it should have really been. 

Finally, he unlocked the front doors, stepping inside. His house was just like he had left it in the morning, everything still in its place. 

Kun took good care of his home, treasuring it far too much to ever lead it to a state of disarray. His parents never worried about him wrecking the place when they moved back, leaving the home in Kun’s care. They knew their son would keep it in perfect condition, and two years down the line, he was doing fine with keeping the place in tip-top shape. 

He simply loved his four walls. Every room had history, a story and character.

In the room now used for storage was once used as a spare room, mainly holding some of Kun’s toys when he was younger, momentarily becoming a study when Kun was thirteen, there was still a dent in the wooden flooring from when Yuta accidently knocked over a small but heavy figurine from the wardrobe in the room. The small walk-in closet in the guest bedroom still had a dent from when Taeyong panicked during a game of hide and seek and punched the wall after thinking he saw someone in the small space with him. One of the wooden beams in the attic still had initials engraved into it, forever keeping the two names safe. 

The house had history that Kun couldn’t risk losing. 

Kun turned on the lights in the kitchen, carrying the two heavy shopping bags and placing them down on the counter. When he was shopping, he had so many great ideas as to what he could make for dinner, picking out a few things from here and a few from there until he ended up overwhelmed with his ideas. In the end, he settled for something easy and quick: pizza. 

As he unpacked everything, he also turned on the oven to preheat. 

He moved around the kitchen with ease, putting everything away where it belonged before finally putting the frozen pizza in the oven, setting the timer so he wouldn’t forget. In the meantime, he walked to the living room to switch on the TV. 

Kun had the rest of his day sorted; he would watch a movie, eat pizza, maybe even grab a beer from the fridge if he really felt adventurous, and then he would get ready to sleep. He really had nothing else to do, already having taken care of all the work he had to get done before the start of the next school year. He had his lesson plan done, so all that was left was to wait. 

The pizza was done soon enough and Kun pulled it out, cutting it up into four large slices. He carried his plate over and sat down on the couch, finding a channel where something interesting was playing. He settled on a movie he had seen at least a dozen times already, but he didn’t mind. 

Slowly, the hours went by. Kun had finished the entirety of the pizza, drowning it down with green tea afterwards to help his body cope with digesting the mess he just shovelled into his system. He stared at the flickering screen, action scenes flashing right past in quick succession and he couldn’t have cared less as he fiddled with the thin woven bracelet tied around his wrist. 

He had a few of those, some made by some of his past students and even one made by Renjun when he was younger. But there was only one that he always kept on, never daring to take it off. By that point it was old and tattered even after doing everything in his power to keep it in a decent state, but that was okay. Just because it didn’t look as perfect as it did all those years ago didn’t make it any less valuable in Kun’s eyes. If anything, he loved it more the older it got. 

He was growing drowsy, feeling like he was ready to go up and sleep after an uneventful day. However, he didn’t get the chance to linger on that idea for much longer, hearing a knock on his door. 

At first, Kun thought he heard wrong and that the sound had come from his TV. He decided to turn the volume right down, awaiting the sound again, and when it came, he knew that someone was at his door. 

Kun checked the time, confused as to who would be bothering him at such an hour, but he got up and walked to the front door nevertheless. He pulled the doors open, surprised to see Doyoung. 

“What’s wrong?” Kun asked. “Did something happen? Is Renjun okay?” 

“He’s fine,” Doyoung assured, dismissing Kun’s worry. 

“Then what’s up? It’s a bit late for a visit, don’t you think?” 

“I know, but...” Doyoung sighed. He looked down at the floor, playing with the zipper of his coat. “He’s here.” 

“What?” 

“You know,” Doyoung continued, vague as ever. 

“No, I don’t,” Kun said. “I’m too tired for a guessing game.” 

“Taeyong,” Doyoung explained. “I just saw him.” 

“What?” 

Doyoung nodded. 

“Are you sure it was him?” 

Doyoung chuckled. “It was hard to miss him,” he stated. “He’s umm... quite the sight.” 

Kun furrowed his brow. What did Doyoung mean by that? But he didn’t linger on that for long, far too taken back by finding out that Taeyong was back. He honestly didn’t know what to feel, his heart pounding whilst also shattering and fixing itself, over and over, stuck in an infinite loop. It was torture and joy all at the same time, and quite frankly, it was driving Kun insane. 

“I think he’s a bit lost,” Doyoung continued. “I don’t think he actually has a place to stay.” 

“What about the house?” 

Doyoung shrugged. “I don’t think he has the key.” 

“Right... Yuta should have it though.” 

Doyoung hummed and the two men proceeded to stand in silence. 

Kun had to do something. 

“Where did you see him?” 

“On the beach,” Doyoung replied. “You can’t miss him.” 

“Okay.” 

With that, Kun excused himself, quickly putting on his outerwear and rushing out of his home with Doyoung slowly walking away in the distance. 

Out of all the things Kun thought he would have seen on that day, he never imagined that he’d get to witness Taeyong standing alone on the beach, his hands in his pockets with the evening breeze ruffling his light, dyed hair. He was dressed in a manner you wouldn’t see every day this side of town; skinny black jeans, a leather jacket adorned with pins and designs that looked as if they were painted into the material, with various pieces of jewellery on him. Of course, the dyed hair was also unusual. 

He had grown, but that was expected after so many years. Taeyong wasn’t the same seventeen-year-old Kun had seen last, even if Kun’s heart still clung on desperately to that boy after all this time. 

Taeyong was just staring out into the ocean, unaware of Kun’s presence which was good because Kun found himself at a complete loss as to what to do. He didn’t even know why he rushed out of the house – well, of course he knew, his heart forced him to move before a single thought could come across his mind. So, now, Kun was left standing still, his heart pounding in its cage. 

His hands were sweating, his throat tightening as he became hit with a wave of sadness so strong that he felt he could have cried right in that moment. 

But he held himself together. Somehow. 

It felt so strange, finally being in Taeyong’s proximity after years. He had thought of the moment they would reunite so many times, always picturing it slightly differently. But he never expected this. He never expected it to take so long, and he definitely never imagined death would bring them back together. 

That definitely was something new. 

For a minute or two, Kun stood out of Taeyong’s line of sight. He collected his breathing, simply focusing on the sound of the blowing breeze. It managed to calm him down enough to force a soft sound past his lips – barely audible but loud enough to be noticeable. 

The sound startled Taeyong who whipped his head around, eyes wide in a moment of panic, only to soften with a familiar sense of heartache that Kun was used to. He instantly recognised the emotion, having experienced it before himself. 

The two men looked at each other, both silent if not for their unsure breaths. 

Taeyong, despite everything else, hadn’t changed. It was still the Taeyong Kun knew; those eyes, lips and the scar under his eye were the same as they were when they first met, when they both held each other tight, and when they parted ways, sharing a parting kiss Kun never knew would be their last. That was still the Taeyong that Kun at one point called his best friend, his partner in crime and soulmate. 

Finally, the silence was broken by Taeyong. 

“Kun,” the older uttered. 

“Taeyong,” Kun said, his voice matching the awe and grief and joy that was laced into Taeyong’s own one. 

Saying his name after so long was strange, but it awoke millions of memories Kun treasured deep within his heart, the force of which made him weak. But hearing Taeyong say Kun’s name, as sweet and tenderly as he always did... well that... that was a feeling unlike anything he had ever experienced. It felt like coming home: comforting and safe. 

Kun wanted to hear it again, and again, and again, until in the end he was nothing more than a puddle of his own tears. 

“You’re... you’re here,” Taeyong said, a hint of shock behind his words. 

Kun nodded. “I think you being here is more surprising,” he said, hiding the onslaught of conflicting emotions with a faint, pathetic chuckle. 

“Yeah... I guess you’re right,” Taeyong admitted, eyes looking down at Kun’s shoes in an attempt to avoid his gaze, too scared of what would happen or what Kun would say or do once the initial shock wore off. “But here I am.” 

“Here you are,” Kun confirmed, still trying to process that Taeyong was in fact in front of his eyes. It felt so wrong yet so right; Taeyong had vanished completely for years, but to Kun, the only place Taeyong should be was with him, in his line of sight. That was the place he belonged, and Kun also belonged with Taeyong. 

Kun held that belief even when the hope of Taeyong ever coming back had seemingly died out once and for all within everyone in the town. Deep down, Kun always kept hoping and wishing. 

“It’s been a while,” Taeyong said. 

“Ten years.” 

At that, Taeyong bit down on his bottom lip, shaking his head sadly. 

“How are you?” Kun asked. 

Taeyong chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s... it’s a lot, you know?” 

Kun nodded. “Yeah. I know. But, how have you been these past years?” 

“Good, I think,” Taeyong replied, looking back up at Kun. “I’ve seen and done a lot of things – met a few people too. Good people. And yeah, I’ve been decent. You?” 

“I’m good,” Kun said, offering Taeyong a soft smile. 

“Good. That’s good. I’m glad.” 

The air between the two men was thick – not tense, but awkward. It was expected though after how they left things; so many things were left said and uncertainty about everything in their lives didn’t aid in fixing the atmosphere that hung around them. Kun didn’t know what the line between them was, or if he could possibly go and act the same way he had always been around Taeyong, as if nothing had ever happened. 

For now, Kun didn’t want to think too much about it. 

“So, where are you staying?” 

Taeyong shrugged. “I guessed I’d stay in the family home,” he replied. 

“You don’t have the keys, do you?” 

The older nodded. 

“I think Yuta has them,” Kun explained. “We can stop by and get them. Or... you can always crash at my place. It hasn’t changed much if I’m honest.” 

“You haven’t moved?” 

“No,” Kun said. “My parents moved back, but I stayed. I’m happy here, so I never felt the need.” 

Taeyong hummed. 

“Anyway, wanna grab your keys?” 

“Sure,” Taeyong said, picking up the duffle bag he had left at his feet. He slung it over his shoulder, taking small, uncertain steps towards Kun. He avoided looking at Kun as they walked together. It was somewhat awkward, but also not. Kun didn’t know how best to describe what he was feeling as he and Taeyong walked together in the direction of Yuta’s home. 

There were just so many things left unspoken, and as they went on down the path in silence, everything that was left to say was weighing down on their shoulders. 

Kun looked over at Taeyong, trying desperately to read the man’s expression and to figure out what was on his mind, yet he couldn’t. At one point in time, Kun could do that; he could have easily guessed what Taeyong was thinking simply from a single glance, yet now he came up blank. Honestly, it hurt. It hurt feeling like the person next to him was a stranger. 

But that wasn’t entirely true either. 

Despite everything, the two men weren’t entirely estranged. There still was hope that they could become like they were before, even if that meant just being friends. Kun could do with friends. Though, deep in his heart, he was still clutching onto the hope that he and Taeyong could be more than that; years had passed, people came and went, yet Kun still harboured his feelings for Taeyong. 

He was his first love, and those never really died. 

Soon enough, the two found themselves at the funeral home. 

Kun knocked on, knowing that Yuta would still be awake; the man had quite a messed up sleeping schedule, so he’d most likely be up whenever you needed him. 

Taeyong shuffled to the side, as if hiding. The sight ached Kun’s heart, wanting to offer his hand out to Taeyong and to pull him close, to hold him and reassure him that everything would be fine. 

After a short wait, the doors opened. 

“Kun?” Yuta asked, surprised to see his friend. “What’s up?” 

“Hey, do you think I could get the keys to the Lee’s house?” 

“Umm... Listen, I can’t really-” 

“Hi,” Taeyong interrupted, making himself known to Yuta. “I need the keys,” he added, looking down at the ground. 

“Oh. Oh, right, yeah sure, give me a minute,” Yuta said, stumbling over his words at the sight of the man he hadn’t seen in years. 

Taeyong retracted behind Kun as if he wasn't slightly taller. He made himself small though, hiding away, be it from guilt, shame or anything in between, Kun wasn’t entirely sure. All Kun really tell was that being back in the town that he had run away from wasn’t a fully pleasant experience for Taeyong, especially since the only reason he was back was the death of his parents. 

Kun looked over his shoulder, offering Taeyong a reassuring smile when their eyes met for a split second. 

“Here you go,” Yuta said, handing over the key he was tasked with keeping safe. 

“Thanks,” Kun said as he took the key, hooking his finger in the keyring loop. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Yeah, see you,” Yuta replied, looking over at Taeyong. 

It was clear that everyone wanted to speak to Taeyong and catch up, but it was just as obvious that Taeyong needed some time. Time which Kun understood was vital with coping with the utter mess left on Taeyong’s plate. If Kun had to guess, Taeyong was seriously going through a lot, no matter what he felt towards his deceased parents. If he needed a shoulder to lean and cry on, Kun was ready to provide Taeyong with it. 

With the key now in their possession, Kun led Taeyong back in the direction of their houses. They were still neighbours, so they passed Kun’s house first. 

There, Kun came to a halt. “So, here’s your key,” he said, offering his hand out to give Taeyong what was his. “If you need me, you know where to find me.” 

Taeyong didn’t say anything as he looked down at the small item in his palm. His expression was unreadable. 

“I hope we can talk a-” 

“Can you come with me?” Taeyong asked abruptly, catching Kun off-guard. “Please? I- I don’t wanna go in alone.” 

It took Kun a second to process what Taeyong just asked of him, but he nodded. “Sure,” he replied with a kind smile. “Yeah, that’s fine. Let’s go.” 

They walked further down to where Taeyong’s family home was located. Taeyong went up the few steps of the front porch, letting out a shaky breath as he pushed the key into the lock. He hesitated for a minute before turning it, the doors opening with a click. 

Finally, Taeyong opened the doors and stood frozen. He needed a moment and Kun wasn’t in the place to rush him. So, Kun waited patiently behind Taeyong, offering him some support as Taeyong became overwhelmed with so many contradicting emotions. He finally had a chance to be there for Taeyong when he was in a place of mental anguish, and he wouldn’t let Taeyong out of his line of sight again. He waited, and waited, until finally, Taeyong took a brave step forward. 

He was inside. 

Kun followed after him. 

It was strange. Though this wasn’t the first time Kun had been inside the house since Taeyong ran away, the atmosphere was different; it felt cold, empty, like it had been left standing alone for more than just a few weeks. Even with Taeyong there, it wasn’t the same. 

Taeyong walked into the living room, standing still in the centre of the large room. He clenched his fists, relaxing again and repeating that a few times as he looked around. 

He stood out so much, sticking out like a sore thumb. 

Taeyong didn’t belong there. That wasn’t his home – it hadn’t been for years. 

“It’s... odd,” the older man said. 

Kun nodded in agreement, carefully taking a few steps closer to stand behind Taeyong. He placed a reassuring hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, the man turning to look at him, a lost look in his large, glossy eyes. Though the tears weren’t spilling out yet, Kun’s hand was already itching to wipe them away. 

“It- it doesn’t feel right,” Taeyong continued. 

“I know,” Kun said softly. 

“It doesn’t look the same. This isn’t- this isn’t my home.” 

Kun felt like his heart had shattered more in the span of a single hour than it had over the twenty-seven years of his life. His heart wept, the sight of Taeyong causing him to fall apart. Taeyong hadn’t been a part of his family’s life for a decade, and so, all the changes which had transpired in his absence were stark when he finally came back. Kun couldn’t even imagine how painful that must have been. To feel a stranger in what was supposed to be your one place of comfort must have felt like hell and Kun didn’t envy Taeyong in the slightest. 

“I’m sorry,” Kun uttered, offering a gentle squeeze to Taeyong’s shoulder. 

“Did they- did they keep anything?” Taeyong asked. “Photos? Clothes? Toys? Awards? Drawings?” As Taeyong piled on the questions, Kun had to suck in his lips, chewing on the inside of his cheeks, afraid that he could have started crying himself. “Anything?” The way he sounded, so wounded and hopeless... Kun wanted nothing more than to hold Taeyong tight and never let him go. “Did they have a son in the first place?” 

“Taeyong...” 

That was enough of an answer for him. 

Taeyong forced his eyes shut and looked away from Kun. His breathing became shaky, and finally, Taeyong started walking again. This time, Taeyong made a beeline for the stairs, rushing up to the next floor. 

Kun followed after him, keeping him company and comfort when he probably needed it the most. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out where Taeyong was headed. 

His bedroom. 

Or what was left of it. 

It wasn’t a lot. 

Taeyong stood in the doorway, staring at what had now become nothing more than an over glorified walk in wardrobe. The room was so large – Kun remembered how spacious it was when they’d play together, or later down their friendship how they’d sit under the window and kiss, Taeyong’s records laid out on the floor as they muffled any sounds with the soft hum of music. 

All that space for a fucking closet. 

But Taeyong walked in where Kun would have personally closed the doors and walked away. 

Kun felt the need to give Taeyong a moment, watching the man from a distance. Taeyong walked around the wardrobe, his fingertips stroking the fabrics of his parents’ clothes. He touched his father’s suits, shirts and sweaters. He admired the fabrics of his mother’s dresses, her blouses and jackets. He walked to the display in the centre of the room, looking at the watches, the rings, bracelets, earrings and necklaces stored. He took in what was left of his parents – the people he once looked up to with sheer love and adoration, only to now see them through a blue tinted film. 

“I’m really sorry, Taeyong.” 

Taeyong shook his head, running the pearl necklace he was holding in between his fingers. 

“Is there really nothing left? Not even a picture?” 

“I don’t know,” Kun replied honestly. “I’m sure if you looked through the boxes in the attic then you might find something. As strained of a relationship you had, I doubt they got rid of _everything._ Nobody would be that cruel.” 

Taeyong scoffed. “You’d be surprised,” he said, a crude mix of sadness and spite laced into his words. “You don’t know just how cruel the world is. But I know,” he said, pointing to himself with a shaky hand. “I’ve seen it. I’ve _felt_ it, so trust me, I wouldn’t be surprised if they decided they never had a child in the first place.” 

Kun was left at a loss of words. How could he have possibly reacted to that? 

“I’m not gonna go up to the fucking attic just to go through boxes of shit and see any mention of me erased,” Taeyong continued, voice on the verge of cracking. “I’ve had a shit day as it is and I don’t need to be reminded that my own parents would rather pretend I never existed than admit they brought up a freak like me! I- I can’t do that,” he said, this time softer, realising that he had raised his voice too much at Kun. “I’m- I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Kun assured. He made his way over to Taeyong, offering his arms for a hug. 

Taeyong complied with a faint nod, letting Kun wrap his arms around the man’s lithe frame. 

“I really am sorry, Yongie,” Kun comforted, the name slipping out with ease. But Taeyong didn’t mention it, so Kun assumed it was fine. “I can’t imagine how it must feel. I can’t even begin to image what you went through, but I also know that there’s still something of you left here. I promise you that.” 

Taeyong gulped, his face hidden in the crook of Kun’s shoulder. “You promise?” He asked meekly. 

Kun smiled sadly. “I promise. Do you want me to check for you?” 

The older took a minute or two to reply, but Kun didn’t mind. 

“Please,” Taeyong finally said. 

“Okay.” 

They stood holding each other for a bit longer, allowing for Taeyong to calm his nerves to a certain degree. He still wasn’t thrilled by what his parents had done, but he wasn’t entirely hopeless as he followed after Kun. 

The younger of the two went up to the attic, expecting for Taeyong to stay downstairs and wait for him. But to his surprise, Taeyong climbed up with him. 

There were windows in the attic, offering some light inside. However, Kun still grabbed two flashlights left by the entrance, turning them on before he stood up, helping get Taeyong on his legs too. 

The attic was organised, meaning that it was easy for Kun to find what he was searching for. There were plenty of boxes stored near the back so that’s where Kun headed, Taeyong trailing behind him. 

Kun scanned the boxes with the flashlight, reading the dates and things written onto the cardboard. He had to go through quite a bit until he finally found what he was chasing after. 

A box labelled _Taeyong_. 

Kun placed the flashlight under his chin as he carefully picked up the box and carried it over to where there was more room. He laid it down with a soft thud, shinning the bright light down on it. 

Both men stared right at it. 

“So,” Kun said. “Want me to open it?” 

Somewhat in a state of disbelief, Taeyong nodded. He really didn’t expect there to be anything left of his existence within those four walls. Even though Kun did have a slither hope, he was also rather shocked. But with Taeyong’s approval, Kun opened up the box, pointing his light over at the contents. 

There wasn’t much, but it was more than either of them was expecting to see. 

Taeyong kneeled down, picking out a few things. There were report cards from their old school – all with glowing praise at the pride of every teacher’s classroom – as well as old drawings, a few photographs from sports days with Taeyong standing on a podium, holding up a prize which was also buried beneath everything. He always fell short to Doyoung in races, but they always were on the podium together. Kun himself never bothered with sport days, usually hiding away and cheering his friends on, or taking part albeit reluctantly in a few of the games. 

Seeing the pictures and prizes, Taeyong smiled. 

“You haven’t changed much,” Kun mused, looking at the photograph from the sport event from when they were about fifteen. 

“I beg to differ,” Taeyong uttered. 

Kun didn’t say anything, but he felt the need to disagree. 

The older continued to look through the box. There were piles of old photographs ranging from when Taeyong was just a baby, up to his teenage years. Taeyong flicked through a few, and from what Taeyong saw, barely any of them had his parents present for one reason or another. There was one though; it was taken on a family vacation years ago, and it contained Taeyong surrounded by his parents. 

Taeyong brushed the picture, his jaw tensed. He put the stack of photographs away, looking further inside the box. 

There were a few miscellaneous toys that Kun recognised from their shared youth. 

“Damn,” Taeyong uttered, pulling out a heavy pile of old magazines. “I don’t think they print these anymore,” he said, looking over the covers of the issues of magazines he used to buy every fortnight up until the very end of his time at home. “You think I could sell these as collector's items?” 

Kun laughed. “I’m sure someone would buy it.” 

Amazed by his find, Taeyong went through the pile, coming to an abrupt halt when he found something completely different amongst the stack. 

“Oh...” Taeyong said, the tips of his ears turning red. 

Kun had to take a peek, laughing even more when he saw the cover. “So it was you! You took it,” he said, amused by the revelation. “You know, when I couldn’t find it under my bed, I seriously thought my parents found it. I was scared shitless for weeks, just waiting for them to say something. This is a relief.” 

The magazine in question was none other than a less than appropriate collection of sexy buff men in scandalous positions and outfits that Kun got his hands on years ago when he was first starting to question what the hell was happening to him. Growing up, Kun didn’t even know what gay was, only ever hearing the word used in a negative context, hence he always assumed it was something bad. So, when he finally learned what the term meant from Doyoung, Kun started to think that maybe he was in fact gay. 

Everywhere he went, every movie, advertisement, everything, only couples consisting of men and women were present. Kun never even knew there was a possibility to have two men or two women in a relationship, but when he finally found out that it was possible, things slowly started falling into place. 

All the things Kun did and thought which he assumed were just his admiration or friendly bond towards men in his life made more sense under a completely new lens. Whenever he watched a film, he would always be drawn towards the man, and he’d definitely pay closer attention to the male physique than the one of the women on screen. That and other things piled up and it made sense. 

But of course, Kun had to be sure. 

And when he was sure, his crush on Taeyong became painfully obvious. 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong apologised. “I didn’t want to worry you but- when I found it under your bed I was just so-” Taeyong paused, searching for the right words. “Relieved? Yeah, I think that’s right.” 

“That you weren’t the only closeted gay this part of town?” 

Taeyong chuckled, nodding. “Yeah. Well, I was also relieved it was you.” 

At that, Kun smiled softly. 

“How did you even get this?” Taeyong asked, holding up the ancient relic. 

“Honestly? No clue,” Kun replied. “But it cost me the remnants of my first paycheck. Also my last working at the cinema.” 

“What a month that was. Thanks for the free popcorn.” 

“I think that’s what got me fired,” Kun said, recounting that part of his youth. “But it was worth it if it made you happy.” 

Taeyong rolled his eyes, yet he also hid his face as if to conceal a hint of blush. It made Kun fill with pride knowing that he was still capable of making Taeyong blush even now. 

“Is this it, then?” Taeyong asked, looking back into the box. It didn’t look like there was anything more, so Kun looked back at the other boxes scattered around. 

“Seems so,” Kun replied regretfully. “But, if it makes you feel better, a while after you ran away your parents had a bit of a yard sale,” he explained, catching Taeyong’s attention. “It was mostly toys but I made sure to grab a few things I knew meant a lot to you- I mean, I personally couldn’t get them, but I asked Do and Yuta to help me.” 

“Why?” 

Kun assumed Taeyong meant the reason behind why he couldn’t get the items himself. “You parents... well, let’s just say that after you went, they started giving me dirty looks. They were reciprocated, of course. But yeah, they wouldn’t let me get anything by myself.” 

“Oh...” 

“In the end I grabbed your trading card collection, two plushies and your favourite records,” Kun stated. “Including the one that had our song on it.” 

Taeyong exhaled, a gentle curve to his lips. “Thank you.” 

“No need,” Kun assured. “I probably did it more for myself than anything. But, if you ever want any of those back, I’d be happy to hand them over.” 

“Thank you,” Taeyong repeated. “Really. You’ve- Thank you.” 

“My pleasure. Now, I think I should get going and give you some time to-” 

“Kun,” the older interrupted. Kun paused, letting Taeyong talk. “I- I don’t really want to be here, alone. Do you think I could stay with you? At least for tonight? This place feels...” 

“Yes,” Kun agreed. “That’s totally fine with me. Let’s go then,” he said, offering his hand out to help Taeyong up. 

They walked out of the house with Taeyong grabbing his duffel bag on the way. They headed to Kun’s place where the change in atmosphere was instantly noticeable. Taeyong seemed more at ease when he found himself in Kun’s living room. Though it had changed over the years with aesthetics developing and his parents moving out, furniture and wallpapers were replaced, but it still felt like home even to Taeyong. 

“Are you hungry?” Kun asked as Taeyong looked around, an awed and soft curve to his lips. 

“Hungry?” 

“Yeah. Have you eaten anything?” 

At that, the older man pursed his lips in thought. “It’s been a while since morning... but I wouldn’t want to burden you,” he said. 

“Nonsense,” Kun dismissed. “I can make you something, even if it’s just a sandwich.” 

“I- thanks,” Taeyong said, smiling at Kun. 

“Like always?” 

Taeyong nodded. 

“Make yourself comfortable,” Kun said. He was about to head to the kitchen when he noticed he hadn’t cleaned up the mess he left before Doyoung came. He quickly gathered up the dirty plate and empty cup on the coffee table, giving Taeyong a smile as he passed by with the dishes. 

When he was in the kitchen, he heard the TV quietly playing. He was glad that Taeyong seemed more at ease now. The older man went through quite the rollercoaster of emotions if Kun had to say so himself; from being thrown into his old home that felt nothing like it used to, to being reminded his parents would have rather pretended that he was never born than to acknowledge him, to being reminded why he was in his old home in the first place. 

Kun prepared Taeyong a sandwich – it wasn’t anything special, but he knew Taeyong would like it. 

Finished, Kun washed his hands and then carried the plate over to Taeyong who wasn’t sat on the couch but standing and looking around. The man was by the bookcase in the living room, his eyes scanning over some of the photo frames and books. 

“Find anything interesting?” 

Taeyong looked over to Kun, eyes wide. “Oh, I- you went to university?” 

Kun nodded, placing the plate down before sitting down himself. “Yeah. I went to the capital to study. But you can probably see that much from the photo and diploma.” 

“And you came back here?” Taeyong asked, struggling to comprehend why Kun was back in the middle of nowhere instead of a big city. 

The younger nodded. “I guess I did.” 

Taeyong slowly joined him, sitting down, the gap in between them wider than what Kun had grown accustomed to with Taeyong in their youths. 

“But why?” 

“Good question,” Kun said, looking at Taeyong. “Why did I come back? I’ve asked myself that dozens of times, but I still can’t really explain my reasoning. I guess... I lived in the city for the duration of my course, but I didn’t fit in. It never felt right. And here? It felt like home- it still does. You’re probably the opposite though, right? You moved to Seoul too, didn’t you?” 

Taeyong nodded. 

“Funny. I thought I could have bumped into you at least once in those four years,” Kun mused. “But it didn’t happen. Probably because I barely left my room and library,” he added with a chuckle. “My social life was terrible if I’m being honest. It’s more fun here.” 

Taeyong hummed, picking at his nails. “Maybe. And you’re wrong.” 

“Huh?” 

“That I’m the opposite,” Taeyong elaborated. “The city never felt like home. I-I don’t think anywhere feels like home these days.” 

“I’m sorry,” Kun said softly, cautiously bringing his hand closer to Taeyong, only to stop when it was half way in between their bodies. 

“It’s fine. I guess I’m the one to blame for that. If I hadn’t ran away, or if I made an effort. But oh well...” 

Taeyong’s whole appearance was pitiful and Kun really wanted nothing but to hug him tightly and tell him everything would be okay, but he couldn't do that; Kun had no idea what was acceptable and what was deemed out of line. If they were having this conversation ten years ago, Kun would have calmed his then boyfriend as well as he possibly could. But now, things weren’t so simple. 

“Sorry for ruining the mood,” Taeyong added with an awkward chuckle. “Though the mood wasn’t great to start off with. And thanks for the sandwich.” 

*** 

“Here,” Taeyong – aged thirteen – said as he handed Kun a small item wrapped in colourful paper. Both boys were sat inside their secret hideout which was nothing more than an abandoned hut by the old dock; it had been forgotten by time, slowly deteriorating if not for the small but meaningful amount of care which Taeyong and Kun put into keeping the place together. They decorated it with drawings, some toys and things they collected on the beach and town. 

It was their secret, safe place. 

The younger took the item gladly, though he eyed it with confusion. “What’s this?” He asked, noticing just how light what he was holding was. 

“An early birthday present,” Taeyong replied. “I wanted to give it now without the others around.” 

Kun furrowed his brow, confused why Taeyong didn’t want to give it to him at Kun’s birthday party. He didn’t really give it much more thought though, slowly unfolding the paper which Taeyong clearly took care with wrapping. 

He was surprised to see nothing more than a thin string – or few strings really, all woven together to make a bracelet that resembled Taeyong’s if not for the differing colour scheme. 

“I know it’s lame but... I hope you like it. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want,” Taeyong said, seeming rather embarrassed. 

Despite what his best friend said, Kun placed the string over his wrist, offering his hand out. “Can you tie it?” 

Taeyong beamed. “Yeah,” he replied, his nimble fingers quickly tying the bracelet in place. 

When the older boy tied it in place, Kun raised and extended his arm to look at the bracelet around his wrist. “I’ll wear it forever.” 

Taeyong snorted. “You promise?” 

Kun nodded. “I promise.” 

*** 

During the night, Kun woke up – though reluctantly. He heard murmurs and other noises from the guest room that he let Taeyong stay in. It didn’t feel appropriate asking Taeyong if he wanted to share a bed, especially given the circumstances. 

Still, the sounds were concerning so Kun decided to get out from under the covers, slip into his slippers and slowly shuffle out of the bedroom and into the corridor. 

The noises became clearer and Kun’s heart sank to the floor. 

Sniffles. Cries. 

Taeyong was crying. 

God, how Kun hated that sound. He had heard it too many times for his own liking, but he never thought he’d have t bear to hear it again. There was just something so utterly devastating about hearing the older man cry – Taeyong didn’t deserve to be in such anguish as to sob, he only deserved happiness. Kun held that belief even after years. 

Quietly, Kun walked over to the guest bedroom, the doors being left slightly open. It seemed as if Taeyong kept the habit even now. 

The floorboards creaked under the pressure of Kun’s weight, the noise announcing his presence. 

Taeyong’s sniffling halted. Kun knew he was caught so he inched the doors open a bit more. 

The older man was curled on the bed, his back facing the doors. It seemed as if he was trying to play dead, acting as if he was fast asleep and not crying his eyes out. 

But Kun knew better than that. 

Kun shuffled inside, staring down at the bed and Taeyong’s frame before deciding to sit down next to where the man was laid down. He waited, not saying anything, waiting for Taeyong to give up his act. 

It took less than a minute. 

Taeyong sniffled again and Kun shook his head, his heart aching. 

“Did I wake you?” Taeyong asked, his voice meek and strained. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong said. 

“I said: don’t worry about it,” Kun repeated. “I- are you okay?” He asked, looking over to Taeyong. He placed a hand on the man’s arm, letting Taeyong know that he was there for him no matter what. “I know you’re probably overwhelmed, but you can tell me anything that’s on your mind; I’ll listen to everything.” 

There was a long, heavy pause in which Kun wondered if Taeyong actually ended up falling asleep. However, after a while, the older decided to finally speak up. 

“It’s a lot,” Taeyong muttered. “It’s all so... it’s a lot.” 

Kun hummed. 

“I haven’t- I haven’t talked to them in years,” Taeyong continued. “They erased me from their lives, pushed me aside when I needed them the most, and you know? After a few years, I accepted it. After I tried coming back I- I accepted there was no point,” he said, surprising Kun with the revelation that he did try to return. “But this? Being brought back here after years not because they wanted me to, but because my name was still in their will? That fucking hurts. They probably never meant to leave me anything, and now I’m- I’m stuck with a fucking house that feels like a prison. It’s a fucking joke!” 

Kun bit the inside of his cheek, stroking up and down Taeyong’s arm, hearing the man’s voice waver. 

“I’m tired,” Taeyong uttered. “Of everything.” 

“It’s okay,” Kun soothed. “It’ll be okay.” 

Taeyong forced himself to look over his shoulder, his eyes sheened with a layer of tears staring right into Kun’s. The sight made Kun’s heart clench. 

“You promise?” 

With a soft – somewhat pained – smile, Kun nodded. “I promise,” he replied. “Everything will be fine. You’ll get through this – you always have.” 

Taeyong looked away. “I’m tired of _getting through_ everything. I’ve had enough of it, Kun. It’s tiring.” 

“I know.” 

“But do you?” Taeyong asked. He pushed himself up, sitting beside Kun. “Do you know? Do you know the shit I’ve had to go through? Do you really?” 

Kun paused. “No,” he admitted. “But do you want to share?” 

Taeyong bit his tongue, his eyes avoiding Kun. “No,” he said. “I’d rather not.” He looked away – Kun wanted to say in shame. Shame of what? Kun didn’t know, and he wouldn’t know unless Taeyong actually opened up and told him. 

“Look,” Kun continued. “Maybe I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through, but I can understand it’s been difficult. Jesus, Taeyong, I was so worried when you left,” he said, hand over his heart, the pain which he had felt then coming out in the moment. “You were a seventeen-year-old run away. You barely had anything with you, let alone cash! I was scared you’d end up dying all alone, so yes, maybe I don’t know everything, but I know it must have been hard for you and I understand you’re tired, but I also know you’ll get through anything else thrown your way.” 

Taeyong nodded faintly, his hands grasping at the bedsheets. “I’m sorry,” he uttered meekly. “For making you worry.” 

Kun sighed, shrugging his shoulders. “You did what you had to,” Kun said. “Was it the best choice? I don’t know. But at least you’re still here, right?” The man offered Taeyong a smile – a relived albeit still sad smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“What’s done is done. You should probably try to get some sleep now,” Kun suggested, patting Taeyong’s thigh under the covers. He gave it a squeeze and Taeyong looked down, his expressions bewildered. Kun assumed it was because of the physical contact, however he was proven wrong when Taeyong spoke up. 

“You still have it?” 

“Huh?” 

Taeyong nodded to Kun’s wrist – specifically to the thin string bracelet. 

Right. 

Kun chuckled, lifting his hand closer to his face. “I promised, didn’t I? To keep it on forever. I don’t break my promises.” 

At that, Taeyong let out what Kun could only describe as a whimper. He turned his body towards Kun, burying his face against the man’s clavicle, body slumping pathetically against Kun. 

The younger didn’t know what to do, nor did he know what was appropriate in the moment, so he pushed aside any hesitation he felt and wrapped his arm around Taeyong. He pulled the man in closer, propping his chin up on the crown of Taeyong’s head. They stayed like that for a minute or two during which they said nothing. 

Taeyong broke the silence. 

“I’m sorry,” the man uttered again, words slightly muffled against Kun. 

“It’s okay,” Kun assured, not sure as to what Taeyong was apologising for this time. 

“I really fucked up,” the older continued with a pitiful chuckle. 

Kun said nothing, simply holding Taeyong in his arms. 

“But what’s new? My life is one big fuck up.” 

“Don’t say that. It’s not true.” 

Taeyong shuffled closer to Kun, his hand going to clutch onto Kun’s sleep t-shirt. His bony fingers grasped onto the fabric, a sense of hopelessness to the hold. “Can you stay?” He asked after another moment. Taeyong pulled away, large sorrowful eyes looking up right at Kun. “Please.” 

“Stay?” 

Taeyong nodded. “At least until I fall asleep,” he added. 

Kun smiled. “Of course.” 

Taeyong laid himself back down. He rolled over so that his back was facing Kun. 

The younger slipped under the covers too, feeling apprehensive as he stared at the gap between their bodies. 

“You can come closer,” Taeyong murmured. 

With his permission, Kun moved closer until he could feel the warmth radiating off Taeyong’s frame. He stared at the man’s nape, the smooth skin visible from under the man’s oversized t-shirt. Kun had the urge to kiss it, to play with the small hairs at the back of Taeyong’s neck. He craved it more than what was probably healthy for him, so he decided to shut his eyes for his own sake. 

What Kun didn’t expect was for Taeyong to reach his hand back in search of Kun’s. 

Kun gladly followed where Taeyong led him, his heart pounding when the older prompted him to throw his arm over Taeyong’s waist. Kun waited a few seconds before deciding to pull Taeyong closer to himself, his front flush against the curve of Taeyong’s spine. 

“You don’t have to,” Taeyong murmured. 

“I want to,” Kun stated. “I really do.” 

After a short few seconds, Taeyong spoke up again – quieter, almost inaudible. “For now.” 

*** 

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Kun said, watching from behind as Taeyong’s skipped stones on the calm shore. The older boy was failing miserably, his nerves getting the best of him. “You studied hard. Plus, what's done is done. No point worrying about it too much.” 

“I know but-” Taeyong groaned, throwing get another stone at the water, not even bothering to try to make it skip. He turned around to look at his friend, his eyes travelling down to meet Kun, the younger boy sitting down on the sand. “You know how my parents are. Anything below outstanding top ten is a failure to them.” 

Kun sighed. That was the unfortunate truth in the Lee household. Ever since Taeyong turned twelve, his parents started caring more and more about his grades; now at the age of sixteen, grades were pretty much everything. Unless Taeyong ended up at the top of his class, his parents didn’t care, making sure to rub his failures in his face without mercy. 

Kun pitied his friend, especially since he knew Taeyong so well. Kun knew how hard Taeyong worked, and he knew how hard he worked to please his parents even if he hated everything they took the greatest pride in. He pitied Taeyong because the things he prevailed in the most – the arts, creative writing, music – all that was worthless in the eyes of his parents. At least Kun always made sure to praise his friend's artistic talents, being left in awe at some of the things Taeyong had created over the past few years. 

“I know,” Kun agreed regrettably. 

Taeyong shuffled over to Kun before slumping down next to Kun, resting his head on the younger boy’s shoulder. Kun placed his chin atop Taeyong’s messy, wind-blown hair. He hoped that the older couldn’t hear and feel Kun’s pounding heart from the proximity. 

Kun didn’t exactly know when it happened, or if it was even normal, but he started to develop feelings for his best friend. It was a slow and long build-up, but once Kun realised, he was at an utter loss as to what he should do. He couldn’t exactly tell Taeyong out of fear of being judged, of being ridiculed for not being like everyone else. And even though he knew there was not an ounce of maliciousness in Taeyong’s bone, not having a single mean bone, Kun still worried. 

He did try to cover his feelings up, agreeing to date one of his classmates. However, the relationship barely lasted two months and during that time, Kun felt like he was lying to himself. He never felt the same things looking at his girlfriend – or any woman for that matter – that he felt towards men. Especially towards Taeyong. 

Kun wasn’t sure if there was a future for him – the type he had seen in movies and read in stories and seen in real life. He didn’t know if that was exactly possible, but he wanted to stay with Taeyong forever, even if just as friends. He just wanted Taeyong by his side, and if his feelings would never be reciprocated, he didn’t really mind. 

“This sucks,” Taeyong grumbled. 

The younger hummed in agreement. 

“I don’t wanna go home,” Taeyong added. 

“You wanna go to the movies?” 

“That’d be cool. I don’t have any money on me though.” 

“That’s fine,” Kun assured. “It’s on me. I owed you one anyway.” 

Taeyong smiled, pushing himself up. He turned to look at Kun, his eyes dazzling. 

He had such beautiful eyes. 

“Thanks,” Taeyong said before groaning as he forced himself to stand up. He offered a hand out to Kun, helping the younger boy up. 

After a brief stop at Kun’s house, the boys headed up to the bus stop that led to the town centre. They could have technically walked to the cinema but Kun decided to not spoil Taeyong’s mood any further by making him walk when the weather was as unpredictable as it was in early spring. 

The boys got onto the bus, walking all the way to the end to take the back seats, on their way passing a teenage couple. Kun looked away, not interested in seeing the two people suck their faces off, but he did feel a tinge of jealousy that they were allowed to do that but he wasn’t. It just wasn’t fair. 

But after the short journey, Kun and Taeyong got off right in front of the cinema. 

“Sucks you don’t work here anymore,” Taeyong said, going up to look at the posters displayed of the very few movies currently being played. “We could have gotten a discount – at least for the snacks.” 

Kun joined Taeyong, looking at their options. “Have you seen the new Jurassic Park yet?” 

Taeyong shook his head. 

“You wanna see it?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Cool, let’s go then.” 

However, before either of the boys walked into the cinema, Kun reached out for Taeyong’s hand and stopped him. 

Visibly confused, Taeyong looked to Kun. 

“Wanna do something fun?” 

“Umm... aren’t we doing that?” 

Kun chuckled, pulling Taeyong after him as he hurried away from the main entrance and to one of the alleyways behind the cinema. 

“Kun... what are you doing?” 

“Something fun.” 

“Is this type of fun legal?” 

The younger snorted. “Well, it’s not anything bad.” 

“So it’s illegal?” 

Kun led Taeyong to a back entrance, and guessing by the look on Taeyong’s face, the older boy figured out what was happening. 

“Seriously?” Taeyong asked in disbelief. “Are we actually gonna do this?” 

“If you want,” Kun replied. “I won’t force you. I just thought you’d like the thrill of it.” 

“I’m not a thrill seeker,” Taeyong pointed out. “And neither are you.” 

Kun shrugged. “I know. So are you down?” 

Taeyong chewed on his bottom lip, smiling and sighing a few seconds later. “Yes. I’m down. But you know what you’re doing, right?” 

“Of course!” Kun assured. “Those doors don’t close properly and they lead to the exit by the bathrooms,” he said. Maybe working at the cinema was a pain, but at least it meant Kun knew a thing or two to exploit. And, since he had worked there recently, he was sure not much had changed since then. “Just follow me and everything will be fine.” 

“Okay,” Taeyong said. “I trust you.” 

“Great idea. Okay, let’s go.” 

Kun sneaked over to the doors, signalling for Taeyong to come too. 

He creaked the doors open, peeking his head in to check if the coast was clear. When he didn’t see anyone, he opened the doors even further and walked in, taking Taeyong’s hand as he made his way inside. 

They manoeuvred through the narrow corridor. 

When Kun heard footsteps approaching from the other end of the hallway, his stomach sank, hands sweating. He could feel Taeyong’s nerves too, the older boy squeezing his hand, body reluctant to move any further. 

In a moment of panic, Kun grabbed the door handle to the small supply closet, forcing himself and Taeyong inside. He closed the doors after they entered, careful to make the least amount of sound as possible. 

It was practically pitch-black inside if not for the slither of light coming in from under the door. Kun could barely see Taeyong, but he could feel his hot breath so close to his face, he could hear his shaky breath, and he could feel his touch, their hands still holding onto one another. 

They were holding hands. 

Nothing new, but it felt different. 

“Are we gonna get caught?” Taeyong asked, his voice hush. 

“No,” Kun said. “I promise. Just... let’s stay quiet.” 

“Okay.” 

And they did. 

They stayed silent for a good minute, long after whoever was on the other side had already passed by them. But they didn’t move. They didn’t want to from what it seemed. They were fine how they were – together, hidden, so close. 

Kun thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but it wasn’t - he actually felt Taeyong lace their fingers together. Kun could sense Taeyong moving closer, and he too started to move towards the older. 

Somehow, the two boys found themselves pressed against each other. Kun’s heart was beating like a drum, his entire body burning up as he reached his hand out to cup Taeyong’s jaw. 

Taeyong let him. 

In that dark, dingy supply closet, where nobody could ever see, the two boys stood far too close for their own good. 

Kun’s eyes had adjusted to the dark, and so he managed to see the outline of Taeyong’s face. 

He had never had the urge to kiss anyone as strongly as he craved to kiss Taeyong in that moment. 

And so he did. 

And Taeyong let him. 

They shared their first kisses in the dark as was expected from the likes of them, not meant to be seen by anyone. It felt like a secret between them – a sweet, beautiful secret the world should be jealous of. 

It was gentle, apprehensive at first but affectionate nevertheless. Neither had kissed before – even Kun who had been in a relationship prior. They had always done so many things together that it only felt right to share a kiss too. To share more than one kiss at that. 

Kun’s hand was shaking, only stopping when Taeyong placed his own over it. 

They took it slow, not going further beyond a simple kiss. 

Kun wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

When they finally pulled away, Kun felt giddy and he could tell Taeyong was the same. 

To know that his feelings were reciprocated was like having a weight lifted of his shoulders. 

Taeyong felt the same. 

He was just like Kun. 

*** 

Kun woke up. 

Unfortunately. 

As much as he would have loved to laze around all day and sleep in a bed that for some reason felt so warm and pleasant, he knew he couldn’t waste the day. There were things to do, things to clean and rubbish to take out. 

He sighed, begrudgingly opening his eyes. 

When he opened them though, he was surprised to see he wasn’t alone. 

And then it made sense. 

In his sleep hazed mind, Kun completely forgot about Taeyong’s presence, thinking that the day before had been nothing but a dream. It felt like a dream, almost unrealistic really. But no, it was very much real, and Taeyong was sharing a bed with him. That’s why everything felt so nice and fuzzy; it was all thanks to Taeyong. 

Realising he was still pretty much cuddled up to Taeyong, Kun didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay like that for as long as he possibly could, making up for all the lost nights where he could have exactly this. 

So, despite knowing he shouldn’t waste the day, Kun remained as he was. He stayed with Taeyong under the covers, lips curved into a faint smile. 

Soon enough, Taeyong began to stir awake. 

The older man made soft noises, grumbling as his body refused to sleep any longer. He yawned and sighed. Luckily his back was still facing Kun so he didn’t get to see that Kun was more or less staring at him. But Taeyong must have noticed Kun was already awake. 

“You stayed,” Taeyong muttered. 

“Yeah...” 

Taeyong hummed. “Can’t say I’m exactly used to that.” 

Kun didn’t question it. “What do you want for breakfast?” 

“Don’t mind as long as there’s coffee,” Taeyong replied. 

“Got it.” 

Kun forced himself out of bed, sparing Taeyong a glance once he was stood up. The older man hadn’t turned around yet so Kun allowed himself to look for a bit longer. He never thought he would live to see the day where he had Taeyong laying in his bed. It felt surreal. 

Finally, Kun made his way out of the guest bedroom. He walked downstairs, heading over to the kitchen to brew some coffee and get a start on making breakfast. His plan was to maybe attempt pancakes, but it really depended on if he could be bothered with all the mess that would come from it. If not pancakes then eggs, and if not that then he would place a bowl, spoon, milk and cereal in front of Taeyong and that would be it. 

Would Taeyong believe him if Kun said he was actually a decent cook? 

Kun gave attention to the coffee first. 

The man walked around the kitchen for a little longer, deciding on scrambled eggs for breakfast. It was quick and easy, and so he grabbed a couple eggs, a pan and started preparing the meal. 

He was doing pretty well, pouring out coffee into two mugs and ensuring the eggs didn’t get too overdone. He was so invested in cooking that he didn’t notice Taeyong had come and joined him, sitting himself down at one of the stools by the kitchen island. 

Kun looked over at the older when he realised Taeyong was there. 

Taeyong had dressed up, changing into a soft looking sweater with a plunging neckline. Kun wanted to point out that he’d be cold like that, but he also couldn’t help but just stare. If he looked for any longer, he would have surely bore a hole in Taeyong’s chest – that and ruin the eggs. 

Quickly, Kun plated the food, sliding one plate over to Taeyong who smiled politely. 

“Thanks,” the older murmured as Kun passed him a fork. 

“Probably should’ve asked how you like them, but I hope they’re edible.” 

Kun sat down next to Taeyong. He wasn’t a fan of the silence that had fell upon them, but he also didn’t want to harass Taeyong with all the questions he had. He had a feeling that Taeyong would tell him everything in due time, whatever _everything_ even meant. 

Taeyong finished first, standing up and taking his plate to the sink. He turned the tap on, grabbing the sponge and washing liquid. 

“You don’t have to,” Kun said. 

“It’s okay,” Taeyong assured. “It’s just a plate.” 

Kun didn’t stop him. It was just a plate. 

The younger took his time with eating, unsure if he just wasn’t hungry or if he couldn’t bear to stomach anything. 

Taeyong approached Kun again. He bit the inside of his cheek, eyes flickering from Kun’s face down to the floor, a sense of apprehension about him. 

“Here,” Taeyong said, pulling out a few notes and placing them down on the counter. 

“I- you don’t have to,” Kun stated. “Seriously, there’s no need to pay me.” 

“I owe you.” 

“I’m not a bed and breakfast,” Kun pointed out. “You don’t owe me anything.” 

“I do,” Taeyong argued, pushing the money further up in Kun’s direction. “It’s what I stole. All of it – accounting for inflation too.” 

Kun wanted to laugh. He seriously did, but all that he managed was an utterly baffled scoff. “Are- are you serious?” 

Taeyong nodded. 

“You didn’t have to,” Kun said. “It wasn’t that much.” 

“Still, I stole it so I’m giving it back. Hope you can forgive me.” 

“Forgive you?” Kun laughed. “Jesus, Taeyong. I’m not holding a grudge over money. I would’ve probably given it to you if you asked, you know that, right?” 

“But I didn’t ask, so here,” Taeyong continued. 

Kun exhaled, nodding as he took the cash. 

“It helped,” Taeyong added. “The money.” 

“I’m glad,” Kun said. “How’d you even manage?” 

Taeyong shrugged, grabbing his mug of coffee and stirring it aimlessly with a spoon. “The first three months were rough,” he explained. “I just enlisted as soon as I turned eighteen. It gave me over a year to somewhat figure my shit out.” 

Kun hummed, nodding along. 

“I worked here and there,” the older continued. “I met some good people, and some not so good people. But all in all, I managed.” 

“You did,” Kun agreed. 

“And now... I don’t know. Do I go back to my little shithole and my everyday problems, or do I stay here and take care of that fucking house?” 

“You could always sell it,” Kun suggested. “If not, then rent it. At least that way you’d get something out of it.” 

“Maybe,” Taeyong murmured, taking a sip of his beverage. 

“Do you want to stay?” 

Yet another shrug. “It’d be weird. People talk, you know?” 

“I know. I’ve heard plenty myself,” Kun said. “You know, being the town’s only semi-open gay guy. You get used to it after a while.” 

“I’m used to that,” Taeyong stated. “It’s just- I'd always be known as that one troubled kid with dead parents that hated him – that's also gay, just to add to it all. At least in a big city nobody really cares.” 

“The joys of big cities,” Kun mused and Taeyong hummed. 

After another minute or so, Taeyong spoke up again. “Are you really the only one? Semi-open gay guy?” Taeyong asked, a hint of humour but also genuine interest in his voice. 

“Oh, this side of town, yeah,” Kun replied. “But you know, if you go to the town centre down the _shady alley_ , there's actually a gay bar,” he explained, picking up his own cup of coffee. “Met all my love affairs there.” 

“Right...” Taeyong muttered, eyes staring down at his drink. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing,” Taeyong replied hastily. “Just- nothing.” 

Kun raised his brow. “What? You’re surprised?” 

“No, no, I-” Taeyong sighed, shaking his head before looking back up to the other man. “Just me being stupid. I just assumed for some reason, which is stupid. It’s been ten years so... yeah.” 

The younger exhaled, an amused curve to his lips. “I’m not seeing anyone though,” Kun stated. “In case you’re curious. Haven’t had anything serious in maybe two years. You?” 

At the question, Taeyong seemed to tense up. Kun didn’t take that as a good sign. 

“Nothing serious,” Taeyong said. “I- I’ve been meaning to break things off anyway. Just needed an excuse.” 

“Do you have one yet?” 

Taeyong clenched his jaw, his eyes darting around before they landed on Kun – his own eyes. They looked at one another, the uneasy atmosphere around then vanishing for a split moment. 

“I don’t know,” the older admitted. “But I want too.” 

“I’m sure you’ll find one,” Kun said with a reassuring, kind smile. “Is he a dick?” 

Taeyong chuckled. “Yeah, a bit,” he replied. “But splitting rent is sometimes worth it, you know.” 

Kun shrugged. “I can only assume. The prices must be high in Seoul, especially now. They were pretty bad when I studied there.” 

“They’ve gotten higher.” 

“Damn. My condolences,” Kun said, his heart fluttering when Taeyong smiled. It was truly the most beautiful sight. Looking at Taeyong was almost like being a teenager. 

Oh, to be sixteen again. To be young and madly in love. 

Though he still was. 

Young and madly in love. 

He wondered if Taeyong felt the same or if he had moved on. The older had left everything behind when he ran away, so surely that meant that he left his feelings for Kun too. 

But a man could dream, no matter how foolish it was to cling onto such ridiculous hopes. 

Kun had never stopped waiting. Hoping. 

“Do you- do you think I could stay here until the funeral?” Taeyong asked. “I’d pay you back, I just don’t want to... to stay there. It feels haunted.” 

“Yeah, of course,” Kun replied. “And don’t worry about paying me back. It’s fine.” 

“But it’s... it’s not fine,” Taeyong argued, placing his drink down. 

“Of course it is.” 

“It’s not!” Taeyong exclaimed, eyes widening in horror once he realised he had raised his voice. He covered his mouth, taking a small step back. “I’m sorry.” 

Kun blink, confused. “I- it’s okay.” 

Taeyong looked down at his feet, a sad look to him. “It’s not okay,” he repeated. “Everything. It’s not okay. I shouldn’t have yelled and I- you're being too kind to me. You shouldn’t.” 

Kun scoffed. “What?” 

“You should hate me,” Taeyong went on. “You should be yelling at me, telling me to fuck off after leaving you like that. You shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t be helping me.” 

“Taeyong...” Kun uttered, standing up and walking over to the man. He held onto Taeyong’s shaky hands, heart clenching when Taeyong tried to recoil. “Taeyong, please... Taeyong, look at me.” 

The older sucked in his lips, begrudgingly looking into Kun’s eyes once more. He always had the stars in his eyes, Kun thought. Ever since the first time he saw Taeyong, Kun could see galaxies and a billion lights in those stunning, warm, brown eyes. 

Kun wanted to know what on earth was going on behind them. Just what demons did Taeyong live with? What ghost were haunting him? What was weighing him down? 

“I don’t hate you,” Kun assured softly. “I never have.” 

“But I left you.” 

“I know,” Kun uttered. “And I was sad. I was worried sick, scared that something would to you. And I was mad, but not at you,” he said, reaching up to cup Taeyong’s face. The older was apprehensive at first, but he gave in and leaned into the gently touch. “I was mad at your parents, and I was mad at myself for not being able to help. If I knew how bad it got, I would’ve tried harder. Maybe once have I gotten angry, but that didn’t last long.” 

Taeyong stared right into Kun’s soul, his eyes glossing over with tears. “Why?” 

“The answer is pretty obvious, isn’t it?” 

The older drew in a sharp inhale. 

“You understand, don’t you?” 

“Why?” 

Kun shrugged. “Don’t know,” he replied honestly. “It just is the way it is.” 

“You shouldn’t.” 

“Why?” Kun asked, repeating Taeyong’s own questioning. 

“Because.” 

“Because what? Is there a good reason I shouldn’t feel this way?” 

Taeyong nodded faintly. “I’m- I’m not the same person you knew.” 

“Neither am I.” 

“No, I- I really...” Taeyong sighed. “You could do so much better” 

“I find that hard to believe.” 

“Kun.” 

“Taeyong.” 

The older shook his head, his expression showing the fight within himself. A part of him wanted to smile whilst the other clearly wanted to continue arguing with Kun even though it would be a losing battle with how set Kun’s mind and heart were. Kun wouldn’t budge. His feelings were far too strong, no matter how foolish they were. 

“I still feel the same,” Kun stated, stroking his thumb over Taeyong’s cheekbone. The older leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut, his expression torn. 

Kun reached for Taeyong’s hand, feeling the man tense only to give in as their finger laced together. 

It all felt so familiar. 

“Kun,” Taeyong uttered quietly, so unsure of what to do. Kun just hoped Taeyong didn’t feel like Kun was pushing the boundaries. 

Yet Taeyong still inched closer. 

And so did Kun. 

They were so close. 

So, so close. 

And the moment had to be ruined. By what? A knock on the front door. 

Kun sighed and Taeyong pulled away. 

“Who the hell is it?” Kun grumbled. It was far too early for any unannounced visitors so Kun was expecting either someone from the church coming over to get Kun to join in on weekly mass or a neighbour asking for help, be it a plumbing emergency or some sugar. 

Miffed that his opportunity to kiss Taeyong had been ruined, Kun shuffled over to the front door, leaving Taeyong to stand in the kitchen. 

He opened the door, surprised to see Doyoung on the other side. 

“Doyoung? What’re you doing here so early?” 

“I was at the shops so I thought I could stop by,” Doyoung explained. “Can I come in?” 

Kun shrugged, opening the doors wider for his friend. 

“Thanks,” Doyoung said, slipping out of his shoes. “So, I heard from Yuta that you were with Taeyong yesterday. You know,” Doyoung continued, walking into the living room with Kun behind him. “I saw Yuta at the store and he told me, Doyoung, I’ve seen many dead bodies, but I’ve never seen a-” he came to an abrupt pause, his eyes landing on Taeyong who had also stepped into the living room. “Ghost,” he finished. “Taeyong.” 

“Hi, Doyoung,” Taeyong greeted with a shy nod. 

“God...” Doyoung uttered, taking steps towards Taeyong. “Look at you. You’ve barely changed.” 

Taeyong chuckled. “I have. But thanks.” 

Doyoung turned to Kun only to quickly look back at Taeyong and then Kun once more. “Are you...” 

Kun cleared his throat, not wanting Doyoung to make things even more awkward than he already has. 

“Right,” Doyoung said. “I take it you haven’t gotten a chance to talk to Yuta properly yet, have you?” 

“We only stopped by for the key,” Kun explained, stepping closer to Taeyong and Doyoung, going to stand by Taeyong’s side on instinct. They had always been attached at the hip, so it only felt right to stand right next to him. “Did he say anything to you?” 

“Only that the wake will be on Saturday,” Doyoung replied. “This Saturday. The funeral on Sunday.” 

“What? That’s in a few days,” Kun said. 

“I know, but Mrs Park really wants it to happen soon, and with the help from Mr Lee’s mother, it’ll be on Saturday,” Doyoung explained. Mrs Park was Mrs Lee best friend, often spending their days together whilst their husbands were at work. She had taken planning the funeral on her own shoulders, wanting to ensure her best friend was given the send-off she deserved in Mrs Park’s eyes. 

But it wasn’t Mrs Park’s name that had caused Taeyong to go stiff. 

“My grandma?” Taeyong asked. 

Doyoung hummed. “Yeah, apparently she’s coming here on Friday. Have you spoken to her?” 

Taeyong shook his head. “I tried,” he stated. “But she umm... you know. She has her beliefs and she stands by them.” 

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung said, placing his hand on Taeyong’s arm, giving it an apologetic squeeze. 

“Thanks.” 

Doyoung looked between Kun and Taeyong. “You know, we should all have a get together. Like the good old days. Us, Yuta, Taeil. How about that?” 

Kun looked over to Taeyong. It was his decision in the end. 

Taeyong smiled softly. “Yeah, I’d like that.” 

“Great. How about Friday at like six?” 

“Fine by me,” Taeyong replied. 

“Cool. Well... I think I’ll get going, leave you two to whatever you were doing before,” Doyoung said, glancing over at Kun with a somewhat knowing glint in his eyes. Of course, Kun’s friends new. It was hard to keep a secret that big, and even though Kun and Taeyong tried, both too terrified of what would happen if their friends found out, they were found out sooner or later. 

Doyoung found out first but he never mentioned it, allowing his friends to feel a sense of peace in an already hectic and unforgiving environment. Everyone else found out after Taeyong had already left, connecting all the dots until everything made sense. But they were understanding, and Kun was thankful for that. Though, he wished Taeyong got to experience that same feeling – of being accepted amongst the people which cared about you. 

“I’ll see you around,” Doyoung said, walking himself out promptly. 

And again, it was just Kun and Taeyong. 

Kun, Taeyong, and the impenetrable tension between them. 

Maybe Kun shouldn’t have gotten so reckless before. But he couldn’t help it, his heart making a decision before his mind could process it. 

“Do you wanna do anything today?” Kun asked. 

“I... think I want some time alone, if that’s okay,” Taeyong said. “I wanna walk down the shore.” 

“Yeah, that’s fine. I won’t stop you,” Kun said. “I’ll just be here. Do you think you’ll take long?” 

“Maybe a few hours,” the older replied. 

“Okay.” 

*** 

Kun felt himself dozing off. From the sound of the sea and wind from outside of the hideout, to Taeyong’s melodic voice reading aloud from the book he had brought over from the library, to the warmth of Taeyong’s lean body against his, Kun was ready to fall asleep. 

He played with Taeyong’s hand, stroking his palm and down his slender fingers before intertwining their hands together. Kun was on cloud nine. He was calm and content, all the fears and worries which he held were left outside as he allowed himself to be carefree for just a few moments at Taeyong’s side. 

His best friend, now also boyfriend of two months, suggested their impromptu date. They both had to sneak out in the dead of night, rushing over to their hiding spot with blankets, torches, candles and snacks, avoiding anyone that could have possibly told on them. Dating was hard, and going anywhere together with just a slightly romantic air about them would risk potentially being found out, so they settled on the next best thing. 

And Kun liked the next best thing too. He liked being cuddled up together with Taeyong in their own secret world, doing whatever they wanted. It was nice, and it was only for them to see. 

Their date started off with a few games, laughing and goofing around before finally settling on something calmer. 

Taeyong read through the pages of his book with a soothing voice. Kun could have listened for an eternity, finding something so alluring about the way the older boy spoke. It was enchanting – like music to the ears. Kun hadn't been paying attention to the story as much as he should have, and when Taeyong asked him something regarding the book, the younger just shrugged and watched as his boyfriend shook his head. 

He wouldn’t have had it any other way. 

Kun placed a kiss to Taeyong’s shoulder before leaning his head against the older boy, his hand going to lock with Taeyong’s. The older bookmarked the page he was on, putting the book down to hold Kun’s hand. 

“Is it that boring?” Taeyong asked quietly. 

“No,” Kun replied. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Kun scoffed. “For what?” 

“For not making these dates fun,” Taeyong replied. “I wish we could do more.” 

“Who says I’m not having fun? Yongie, anything’s fine if I’m with you.” 

“Cheesy,” Taeyong murmured with a smile. 

“I mean it,” Kun assured. “But if you want _fun_ , we can always go to the arcade. It’s far from romantic but it’s fun.” 

“You’re only setting yourself for failure, Kunkun,” Taeyong teased. “You’re terrible at games.” 

Kun laughed, sitting himself up. “Hey, I’m not _terrible_.” 

“You kinda are though,” Taeyong argued. 

“Am not! Take that back.” 

Taeyong shook his head no, his expression overjoyed from teasing Kun. “I won’t. It’s the truth.” 

Kun frowned, going in to attack his boyfriend – and by attack he meant tickle Taeyong until the older couldn’t breathe. 

It didn’t take much. Taeyong was beyond ticklish, jumping and flailing around from the lightest of touches to his sides. Kun feared the older would end up kicking or hitting him on accident, but luckily that didn’t happen. 

Kun tackled Taeyong to the floor, his hands unrelenting, giddy laughter passing through Taeyong’s lips. He was loud and uncontrollable, so loud in fact that Kun wondered if anybody would be able to hear it even if they were so far away from any homes. 

“Kun!” Taeyong yelled, gasping for air from laughing too hard. He kept tapping Kun, and finally the younger stopped to spare his boyfriend any further misery. He couldn’t have Taeyong dying on him. Tickled to death would be a strange thing to have on a tombstone. 

Kun ended up crowding Taeyong, smiling right down at the older. “Hey,” he uttered, the air being stolen from his lungs as he looked at his boyfriend, finding himself just as breathless as Taeyong. 

Without exchanging any words, both boys leaned towards one another to close the distance between their lips. They were gentle, that hint of shyness that was always present within their kisses slowly melting away the longer their lips glided against each other, and once Kun licked over Taeyong’s bottom lip and slipped his tongue in, all sense of apprehension vanished. 

Somehow, things felt different now. 

*** 

The days leading up to Friday dragged, yet they also somehow flew right past Kun. Each day felt so long, so he was surprised when he found himself with the rest of his friends down at the beach, Taeyong being the main focus of everyone’s attention. 

During the days that had let up to the meet up, Taeyong barely stayed inside. He would leave in the morning and come back late, taking some time to have a late meal with Kun. He would then go to bed, sometimes asking Kun to join him and sometimes going into Kun’s room instead, slipping under the man’s covers when Kun was already asleep. 

They didn’t talk much, though Kun could tell that it pained Taeyong too. There was clearly a lot going on in Taeyong’s head, so Kun didn’t force him into anything, simply waiting. 

After all, he had waited for years. What was a few more days on top of that? If Kun was anything, it was patient. 

Seeing Taeyong amongst the rest of the group felt nostalgic, and for a split second, Kun was able to see everyone in the way they were as kids. They had turned back in time for a moment, Kun’s heart aching at the sight, yearning to go back and maybe try to do things differently. 

Yuta had lit a bonfire, adding another log into the dancing orange flames when it started to simmer down. There was a faint conversation going on with Taeil mostly leading, trying to ease Taeyong into the group after so many years of his absence. Though, if Kun had to be honest, not much had changed; the main group remained the same, ending up back in the small coastal town they group up in even after the likes of them all went to university. There was something pulling them back in, preferring the town to the rest of the world, each for their own reasons. 

But still, Taeyong had to get used to them again. 

However, it seemed as if he warmed up pretty quickly. It was almost like he had only left for a short time, managing to laugh along with his friends like he always did. 

That definitely eased Kun’s heart. 

“So, now I work at the bank,” Taeil said. “Is it as fun as mister mortician over here? Maybe not, but it’s decent.” 

“At least your house isn’t haunted,” Doyoung chimed in, pointing over to Yuta. 

“It’s not haunted,” Yuta argued. 

“Then explain why I saw a chair move on its own!” 

Yuta rolled his eyes, not having enough energy to argue with Doyoung. 

“Anyway,” Taeil said, moving along with the conversation. “What do you do?” He asked, all eyes now directed at Taeyong. 

The man in question sucked in his lips, giving a faint shrug of the shoulders as he went to hug his knees to his chest. “Not much,” he replied, looking at Taeil before focusing his gaze on the flame and then his knees. “I don’t really do anything fun. I’ve worked here and there, but I currently work at a bookstore. I’m pretty sure it’s gonna go bankrupt soon so yeah...” 

“Well that sure sucks,” Yuta mused. 

“It’s fine,” Taeyong assured. “I’ll find something soon enough.” 

Deciding to change the topic, Doyoung spoke up next. “How’s Seoul anyway? Kun really wasn’t helpful with his lacklustre descriptions.” 

“Hey,” Kun protested. 

“Maybe if you weren’t such a bore and went out once in a blue moon,” Doyoung said, causing Kun to roll his eyes. 

“Seoul is... okay, I guess,” Taeyong said, picking at the skin around his nails. “It’s just another city. It’s busy, crowded, nobody really cares about you which is kind of nice compared to here. But it has its own downfalls, I guess,” he added. 

Kun hummed, nodding along. 

“What about the people?” Yuta asked. “Bet it’s wild out there.” 

Taeyong chuckled softly. “It is,” he agreed. “I’ve met plenty of people, some good, some not so much,” he explained. “I mean, I have some pretty great friends. Johnny, for example, is amazing. I’m sure you’d love him,” he said, a soft smile appearing on his face as he mentioned his friend. “And then there’s Ten – he's quite the character really, but he’s sweet. Oh and Jaehyun, he’s... something else – you'd be fooled by his looks really. Sicheng too. They’re an odd but great pair.” With that, he finished, a light smile on his lips. 

As he spoke, Kun could tell he really cared about his friends. At least he wasn’t alone in a city so crowded yet so lonely. 

“I’m sure they’re great,” Taeil mused. 

“Yeah,” Kun agreed, stealing a longer glance at Taeyong. 

“And what about any love affairs?” Yuta questioned. “I’m sure you’ve caught plenty of eyes looking like you do.” 

Kun could practically feel Taeyong shrivelling up and curling in on himself at the mention of relationships. All he knew was that things weren’t going too well with his current boyfriend, so it did worry him to see Taeyong like that. 

“That’s umm... that’s a different story,” Taeyong replied, looking up at his friends, offering a pitiful chuckle. “I haven’t been too lucky in that aspect,” he stated. 

“No way,” Yuta said, shocked at the news. “But you’re good looking.” 

“That’s not the issue,” Taeyong said. “I’ve been with plenty of-” he paused, looking to Kun with a rather worried glint behind his eyes. 

Kun nodded and Taeyong looked away. 

“Plenty of men,” Taeyong continued. “Nothing’s ever lasted long enough, and that’s probably for the best,” he uttered. “My luck with men has been pretty shit if I’m honest. Oh well.” 

“If it makes you feel any better, we’re all loners here,” Doyoung said, earning a genuine smile from Taeyong – sad but genuine. 

“Though Kun has some game, don’t you?” Yuta asked, nudging Kun on the arm. “He’s a player.” 

“I’m not,” Kun stated, not even bothering to sound offended with Yuta’s absurd claim. 

Yuta didn’t go on with his teasing after that. 

“Have you at least been good?” Doyoung asked Taeyong. 

Taeyong took longer to answer that. 

The silence was deafening. 

“Not sure,” Taeyong replied. “I wanna say yes, but I can’t fully say that.” 

The atmosphere had changed around the fire – it became heavier. 

“I mean, sure, I definitely got away from my parents which was a relief,” Taeyong explained, “but I had to go through so much fucking shit after that. I juggled multiple jobs, barely slept, barely ate, did things I regret, met people I much rather have never laid my eyes on, and even after years I’m still from having even a slither of the life I imagined. I work shit jobs but even then, I have to rely on my deadbeat boyfriend that cheats on me and doesn't even bother try acting like he’s not, all because splitting rent is better than having to work multiple jobs again.” 

Kun exchanged looks with the rest of his friends, all of them visibly worried for Taeyong who started speaking faster, his breathing getting unsteady. 

“And no matter what, I’m still fucking haunted by my parents,” Taeyong went on. “Practically every day I get reminded of them somehow and everything goes to shit all over again in a never-ending cycle. No matter what I do to forget everything, they’re still there and now they’re dead but I still see and hear them, always disappointed and disgusted with me. What’s worse is that I _tried_ , I fucking tried! I came back here; I thought I could fix things, or at least talk things out to give myself some peace but no. Whenever I saw them, I panicked and turned into the same scared, pathetic person I was when I ran away. But I gave up. After I- after they saw me coming here, when they looked at me and turned the other way... I gave up. And that- that look is haunting me to this day and I don’t think it’ll ever leave me.” 

Kun scooted over to Taeyong, going to place a reassuring hand on Taeyong’s shoulder. 

“And now they’re dead,” Taeyong uttered, looking down as the tears he held back finally started spilling out. “They’re dead and I can’t do anything.” 

As he stoked Taeyong’s arm, Kun looked over to his friends. They understood what he meant and excused themselves, but not before saying goodbye and trying to console Taeyong with a few words or a touch. 

When they all left, Kun moved closer to Taeyong. 

“They’re dead,” the older repeated. 

“I know,” Kun uttered, rubbing his hand on the man’s arm. 

“It’s not fair,” Taeyong continued. “It’s not fair. They didn’t even try,” he sobbed. “They- they ruined my life and now they’re dead! They got the easy way out whilst I’m paying the price!” 

Kun bit the inside of his cheek, feeling tears well behind his eyes the longer he looked at Taeyong and listened to his broken voice. 

“I hate them,” Taeyong continued with yet another sob. “I hate that I can’t stop caring about them.” 

“Yongie...” 

“They ruined my life and I still can't stop caring about them- about what they think of me! I hate them!” Taeyong leaned back, his back flat on the sand, his arms shielding his face. “I hate them,” he repeated, each time sounded more and more heartbroken. “They won...” 

Kun placed his hand on Taeyong’s thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze as Taeyong let his feelings out – his true feelings. 

“They got rid of me like they wanted, but I still think of them.” 

“It’s okay,” Kun uttered softly. “I know it hurts.” 

Taeyong pulled his hands away, revealing a face stained in tears, eyes red and puffy from crying. 

“I wish- I wish I could’ve talked to them at least one more time,” Taeyong said. “I know they wouldn’t want me back, but I just wish I could’ve proven them wrong. But they were right; I’m a fuck up that should’ve never been born.” 

“Taeyong! Don’t say that.” 

The older man shrugged. “It’s true,” he muttered. “My life’s a mess.” 

“That doesn’t mean you’re a fuck up,” Kun argued. “And it definitely doesn’t mean you should’ve never been born. Don’t say things like that. It’s not true.” 

Taeyong chewed on his bottom lip. “Do you think they’re watching this right now?” He asked, turning his head to look at Kun. He looked beyond wounded. “You know, I lost my faith a long time ago, but I still wonder about death. Are they looking down from heaven, just see me in the hell they caused? Or are they just gone, getting a way out whilst I suffer every day? I don’t know which is worse really. In all cases, I’m the loser.” 

“For one, I don’t think they deserve heaven for what they’ve put you through,” Kun admitted. 

Taeyong raised his brows. “Cold,” he uttered. 

Kun chuckled, shaking his head. “I mean it,” he said. “I don’t know everything, especially how you’ve been coping these days, but I know how it was when you were still here. I mean, they made you runaway, that’s bad enough as it is.” 

Taeyong made a soft noise, looking away, eyes staring up at the darkening sky. “I wonder how things would be if I didn’t run away,” he muttered. 

“What do you think?” 

“I... you know,” the older said sadly. “I’m not sure if I’d still be alive.” 

Kun closed his eyes, the tears he fought to keep at bay finally escaping and rolling down his cheek. All he could think of was Taeyong a few months before he ran away, cold and soaking wet in his arms, shivering after he walked into the water in the dead of night, submerging himself under the icy water so that he could escape everything. He could only think of how stupid he had been at the time, not asking more questions, settling on the bullshit excuse that Taeyong didn’t do it on purpose. Kun wished he did more, and maybe that way he could have spared Taeyong so much of his suffering. 

“But if I stayed, at least I would’ve spent more time with you,” Taeyong continued. 

“Taeyong...” 

“I missed out on so much, didn’t I? And for what?” 

“At least you’re still alive,” Kun said. 

“Barely. But I’m- I’m glad you’re still here,” Taeyong stated, pushing himself back up. “As selfish as it might be.” 

“I’m glad I’m here too,” Kun admitted, moving even closer to Taeyong. “It’ll be okay,” he repeated once more. “Everything will be okay now.” 

“Ten years...” 

“It’s not that long,” Kun said. 

“It is. To me it is,” Taeyong argued, a hand over his heart as if it ached him deeply. 

“Well... I’m always happy to make up all the lost time,” the younger stated. “I won’t be able to fix things between you and your parents, or to erase all your pain, or to turn back time, but I’ll gladly have you by my side if you want. We can always catch up on ten years together.” 

Taeyong sucked in his bottom lip, shaking his head as he looked away from Kun and lazily drew his attention to the steady water. 

After a minute or two, the older spoke softly. “Why?” He looked back to Kun. 

“I told you already,” Kun replied, offering Taeyong an amiable smile. 

“But why? I- you could do so much better.” 

“We’ve already had this conversation, Yongie,” Kun pointed out. He reached his hand out, taking Taeyong’s in his, giving it a light squeeze. “I guess I’ve been waiting for you to come back. Years down the line, I still feel the same. I’m sure that has to mean something, right?” 

Taeyong’s eyes flittered around, down from Kun’s eyes to their joined hands, to the flickering flames and the shore. He let out a soft exhale, amused, confused and saddened. “I’m a mess,” he said. “Unresolved issues, an ugly past and a hopeless future,” he added. “You should probably give up on me, I know I have.” 

“I won’t give up on you,” Kun stated, moving up to cup Taeyong’s face. The older looked up at him with glossy eyes, so wounded yet filled with a million stars and constellations too beautiful to ever be replicated and described. “That’s the last thing I’ll do, you understand? I haven’t given up in ten years and I’m not about to do that now. I love you, Taeyong. Always have, and always will.” 

Love. 

That’s what it was. There was no other way to describe it. Kun had loved Taeyong all those years, and though he buried his feelings away for so long, it was impossible to keep them hidden for any longer now that Taeyong was once more with him. 

He was in love. 

And now, Kun wouldn’t let Taeyong go – not that easily. 

“Kun...” Taeyong uttered, voice soft and close to tears. 

“Taeyong,” the younger retorted, inching their faces closer, only to press their foreheads together. “I love you,” he repeated. “So, whatever it is that you feel, whatever burdens you carry, share them with me,” Kun went on, holding Taeyong’s face securely – gentle but strong. “I’ll bear it all for you. I love you so much, Yongie.” 

At that, Taeyong finally cracked, sobbing once more. This time, Kun held him in his arms, easing Taeyong as he cried and cried, hiding his face in the crook of Kun’s neck. He cried, his body trembling. 

Kun felt Taeyong’s grief, his resentment, sadness and pain. He felt all the emotions Taeyong couldn’t put into words – the desperate need for comfort, for closure and for love. He understood Taeyong, their hearts beating together, exchanging words left unspoken. 

Taeyong’s heart was heavy and not even the tears he shed could fully free him. 

At least he was letting go – whatever small increments of his overall pain it may have been. 

“It’s okay,” Kun soothed, embracing Taeyong tightly. “Let it go, Yongie. Even if it takes months or years, I’ll be here, so let it all out.” 

Taeyong clutched onto the fabric of Kun’s coat, desperately clinging onto him for dear life. The sobs continued, and they were paired with almost incoherent utterances. “They’re gone,” he cried. 

“I know,” Kun whispered, placing a kiss to the crown of Taeyong’s head. 

“It’s not fair!” 

Kun shut his eyes, tightening his hold on Taeyong. 

“It’s- it’s not fair,” Taeyong hiccupped, his cries slowly dying out. “It’s not. They’re not supposed to be dead... not yet. I was- I was supposed to get closure. Not like this.” 

“I know,” Kun said. “But there’s nothing we can do to change it. We can’t bring them back. You’ll have to let them go for good, as hard as that may be. But you won’t be alone, I promise you that.” 

Taeyong slowly pulled away, his face stained even more with salty tears, glossy rivers running down his cheeks. Kun wiped away some of the wetness with his thumbs, tenderly cupping Taeyong’s face. 

“You promise?” 

Kun nodded, smiling at the older. “I promise. And you know how I am with my promises.” 

The corners of Taeyong’s lips twitched upwards. “I know,” he replied. 

“Should we go home?” Kun suggested. “It’s getting cold,” he added despite the fact he was practically boiling from the fire so close to them. He just wanted to lay Taeyong down in bed and hold him, allowing the older to rest. Taeyong looked tired from crying, and Kun wanted nothing more than for Taeyong to be comfortable. It’s what he deserved. 

“Home?” Taeyong asked quietly. 

“Home,” Kun confirmed. 

Taeyong smiled, a tear-stained laugh coming past his lips. “Home,” he uttered, almost in disbelief. 

*** 

“I like this one,” Kun said as the next song started to play. “Has a nice atmosphere.” 

“It’s my favourite one,” Taeyong stated, looking over the track list at the back of the vinyl sleeve. “I heard it on the radio and searched for it everywhere. I’m glad you like it too.” 

Taeyong and Kun were sat in the corner of Taeyong’s bedroom, hidden away near the wardrobe so that if somebody walked in, Kun could easily hide. After all, he technically wasn’t supposed to be with Taeyong. His parents prohibited Taeyong from going out or seeing anyone on school nights in an attempt to get him to study, and of course, they did it to prevent Taeyong staying up too long which was exactly what was happening at that very moment. 

At first, Kun thought that playing music was a dead giveaway that Taeyong was still up, however it was either music or whispering amongst one another. At least with the music, Taeyong could always use the excuse that he was studying into the dead of night which, whilst not the best thing to do in theory, would end up satisfying Taeyong’s parents. 

“I think I’ll get their other albums for Christmas,” Taeyong said. 

Kun hummed, already looking over at the name of the artist. He had some savings, so he could definitely surprise Taeyong for his upcoming birthday. Kun knew Taeyong would be elated, especially with how happy the record made him. If Kun could add to that happiness, then he would be willing to give up all the money he had – granted, it wasn’t that much in the first place. 

“I saw all the albums they had when I went in to buy this one, and they have a lot,” Taeyong continued, an enthusiastic smile and look to him. “But there was this one that caught my eye. You should have seen the cover; it was funky and colourful and crazy, but really pretty. I haven’t heard any of the songs but I’m sure they’re good.” 

As Taeyong spoke, all Kun wanted to do was lean in and kiss him. The urge was strong, so strong in fact that it almost pained Kun to sit still. He didn’t understand why on earth he was acting the way he was, but it all suddenly fell into place when Taeyong looked into his eyes with the most beautiful smile Kun had ever witnessed. 

“I love you,” Kun confessed, bringing Taeyong’s passionate ramblings to an abrupt halt. 

There it was. 

He said it. 

“You- you love me?” Taeyong asked, taken aback by the sudden confession. 

Kun nodded. “Sorry,” he added. “That was random. You can ignore it if you want.” 

“W-what? No,” Taeyong said. “I love you too,” he stated with a shy smile. “Like... a lot.” 

Taeyong looked away, eyes drawn to the floor, avoiding Kun out of embarrassment despite both of them saying the same thing. He made himself smaller, looking quite adorable in Kun’s eyes. His cheeks were dusted a faint pink, and when his eyes flickered back up to look at Kun, the younger felt himself melt. It simply didn’t seem possible to be as beautiful as Taeyong. And those eyes – those gorgeous eyes – made Kun weak, body itching to move closer to Taeyong just to kiss him. 

“It’s embarrassing,” Taeyong uttered. “Not you! Me,” he elaborated. “Sorry. I just- didn't expect that. But do you really mean it?” 

Kun smiled. “I do,” he replied. 

The older giggled. “It feels weird, doesn’t it? Love and all that,” Taeyong said. “A good weird. You know?” 

Kun nodded. “Yeah, I know.” 

He didn’t expect to blurt out his feelings for Taeyong like that, but it was true; he loved Taeyong dearly, deeply, truly. It was a feeling he couldn’t explain. It just felt right. It felt like what he imagined love to feel like. He wanted to be with Taeyong practically all the time. Their time together was magical, and the time apart was spent waiting to see the other again. 

Kun had it pretty bad. 

But he didn’t mind. If he got to feel the same way he did now in one, two, ten years down the line, then he’d be the happiest person alive. 

Being with Taeyong felt right, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

*** 

Kun woke up first, finding Taeyong cuddled up to his chest. He smiled softly at the sight, hugging Taeyong’s waist tighter, pulling their bodies closer. The older man was warm – just how Kun liked it. But most importantly, Taeyong was peacefully asleep. 

Just thinking of last night pained Kun, and even after both men arrived back home, Taeyong struggled to sleep; he ended up with tears in his eyes once more a while after Kun had turned the lights off. Kun held Taeyong through it, soothing him as the tears spilled out paired with soft sobs. He didn’t go to sleep until Taeyong had finally stopped his cries and fell asleep, body weak and tired. 

Kun would probably never understand the severity of what Taeyong was going through, but he would try. As long as they were together, Kun would try and aid Taeyong through everything – he would carry the pain weighing him down. He loved Taeyong too much to give up, and he definitely loved Taeyong too much to see him crushed and destroyed by grief. 

He looked to Taeyong’s face. Taeyong looked at peace, not a single worry written across his beautiful features as his mind was elsewhere, probably somewhere tranquil and bright. 

Kun pressed his lips to Taeyong’s forehead, leaving a gentle kiss. 

After another ten minutes or so of just laying around, Taeyong started to grumble and shift in his sleep until finally he opened his eyes. 

And when he did, he found himself looking right at Kun whose gaze was warm, tender, loving. 

“Morning,” Kun greeted softly, stroking Taeyong’s face before brushing away the hairs from his eyes. “Sleep well?” 

“My head hurts,” Taeyong uttered, voice thick with sleep. “What time is it?” 

“Nine.” 

Taeyong hummed, pushing himself up with a groan. Kun stayed laying down, looking up at Taeyong as the older rolled his head and stretched his limbs. There was a faint sound of bones cracking so Kun assumed Taeyong didn’t sleep in the most comfortable position for him. 

Taeyong yawned, turning back to Kun. He had large, dark bags under his eyes, the sight of which was concerning, but Kun wrote it off as an after effect of all the crying – same with the headache. 

“Sorry for keeping you up with all the crying.” 

“No need to apologise,” Kun assured, reaching his hand out to trace his fingers down Taeyong’s back. “Are you feeling any better?” 

The man in question shrugged. 

“Are you hungry?” 

“A bit,” Taeyong replied. 

“What are you in the mood for?” 

“Something light,” Taeyong said. “I don’t think I can stomach much. Just thinking of the wake and the funeral tomorrow... I don’t think I can handle it.” 

Kun sat himself up too, taking Taeyong’s hand in both of his. “We don’t have to go today if you don’t feel like it,” he said. “Don’t force yourself.” 

“I want to,” he explained. “It’s just... will I be welcomed? If my grandma’s there I doubt she’ll be happy to see me.” 

“We can always go later if you’re worried,” Kun said. “But it’s not about them. It’s about you getting to see your parents one last time.” 

“I know...” 

“It’ll be okay,” Kun assured. “I promise.” 

Taeyong sucked his bottom lip in, his eyes landing on Kun. “Thanks,” he uttered. “For making this easier. I don’t deserve this.” 

“You deserve the world, Yongie,” Kun said, saddened by Taeyong’s words. He cupped the man’s jaw, tilting his head to face him straight on, thumb brushing the rose shaped scar under his eye. “I love you,” he added. “But you don’t have to say it back, it’s okay.” 

Leaning into the touch, Taeyong smiled. “What did I do to deserve you?” He whispered, not entirely meaning for Kun to hear. 

But he heard. And it meant far more than Taeyong could possibly imagine to Kun. 

“Breakfast?” 

“Yeah. Breakfast.” 

*** 

Kun’s arms ached from carrying the shopping bags, the bags of flour and sugar as well as the heavy cartons of milk and juice were killing him and his weak arms. He knew he should work out and build up some muscle mass, but he never imagined bringing some groceries from the shop to his house would be so dreadful. It was actually embarrassing how tired he already was. At least he was close to being home. 

As he walked on and on, he found himself passing Taeyong. He was surprised to see the boy out and alone, especially considering how his parents made him study whenever he had spare time. 

It was definitely odd. 

But Kun decided to call for his boyfriend. 

“Taeyong!” 

The boy quickly whipped his head around, eyes locking with Kun from a distance. Kun couldn’t get a decent look at him, but he saw Taeyong wipe his face with his sleeves. 

Kun waved, moving one of the shopping bags to his other hand. 

Taeyong waved back. 

“Wanna hang out?” Kun asked, hoping his voice carried well enough. 

The older replied by lifting his hand up, giving Kun a thumbs up. 

“My place?” 

Taeyong stood up and started walking over. 

Kun took that as a yes. 

When Taeyong got to Kun, he offered to carry one of the bags. He also avoided direct eye contact for a while, confusing Kun. Though, something did feel off about Taeyong at that time. It almost seemed like he had been crying, but that could have also been Kun’s imagination. 

Either way, Kun did everything he could to fix Taeyong’s mood. 

Of course, he succeeded. 

But little did he know that that would be the beginning of the end. 

*** 

“There’s so many people,” Taeyong said, hiding himself behind Kun. 

“I didn’t expect this,” Kun mused. “I thought there’d be less people, you know, since it’s late.” 

The men made their way to the wake at a later hour so that they could avoid there being too many people, all so that Taeyong wouldn’t feel uncomfortable and like he wasn’t wanted there. Yet unfortunately, there were plenty people there. 

“We can always come back later,” Kun said, looking over to Taeyong. 

“It’s already late,” Taeyong stated. “The wake will be over by then.” 

Kun sighed. “Do you still want to do this?” 

The older man nodded. 

“Okay,” Kun said softly, offering Taeyong a comforting smile. “I’ll stay by your side if you want.” 

“Please.” 

Kun walked further into the funeral home with Taeyong close to him. He made his way over to Yuta who was sat at the foyer, his legs crossed over as he kept watch over the gathering. 

“You're here,” Yuta said, standing up promptly once his eyes landed on the two men. “I didn’t think you’d come,” he added. 

In all fairness, even Kun didn’t expect to come. If not for Taeyong, he would have most likely just skipped out on the wake, not having much to say about the deceased Lee’s. But for Taeyong, he came. It was a surprise that Taeyong forced himself to come, but he really wanted closure, and this would be the closest he could get to it. 

“How’s it going?” Kun asked, feeling Taeyong lean into his side. 

Yuta shrugged, briefly looking over to the main hall. “Fine,” he said. “A few people have spoken up, told some stories, all the usual stuff.” 

“Is it an open casket?” Taeyong asked. 

“Yeah,” Yuta replied. “I fixed them up for you. You can say goodbye now, if you want.” 

“Thanks,” Taeyong said. 

“Are you ready?” Kun asked, turning to look at Taeyong. 

The man nodded. “I think so.” 

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Yuta said, sitting himself back down. 

Kun waited for Taeyong to make the first move. They both stood around for a minute longer until Taeyong finally took a step towards the large room, rows of chairs lined up, some filled up, some empty. There were groups of people, majority of which Kun recognised – including some of his friends, Renjun and Doyoung sitting off to the side whilst Taeil was at the very back. There were also people sitting alone, watching the two caskets at the end of the room, some crying, some calm. 

Taeyong walked over, standing a meter away from the caskets before he turned around, bumping into Kun who hadn’t been paying attention to where he was going. 

“Sorry,” Taeyong uttered. 

“It’s okay,” Kun assured, rubbing his hands up and down Taeyong’s arms. “There’s no rush, okay? You wanna sit down for a moment?” 

Taeyong nodded, his lips sucked in and eyes stricken with grief. 

Kun guided Taeyong to an empty seat, far enough from everyone so that the man wouldn’t have to worry about any one talking or staring. They sat down together, side by side. The younger placed his hand on Taeyong’s lap, soothing him as Taeyong regained some composure. It was obviously too much for him; to see his parents after years but they’re not really there – just the shells of what they once were... Kun couldn’t imagine the pain. 

Taeyong chewed on his nails, his foot bouncing up and down quickly as everything became too much in that moment. All Kun could do was be there for him. 

As Taeyong calmed himself, Kun scoped the room, his eyes meeting with a few people – the main being Taeyong’s paternal grandmother. Her eyes were piercing – cold even. And, when they turned to Taeyong who was blissfully unaware, mind too preoccupied with his nerves, Kun could sense sheer resentment for the man. 

Kun leaned forward, blocking Taeyong from the woman’s view. It was the least he could have done. 

Minutes passed and the chattering from the side of the room became louder. 

Taeyong heard them. His shaky eyes looked over and suddenly, he stood up. 

Kun expected Taeyong to charge out of the funeral home, only to be proven wrong when Taeyong charged over to the front where the caskets were. 

The man froze once he reached his parents. 

The room fell silent. 

And he stood and looked. He stood, body stiff as he took in the sight of his parents. 

Finally, he made a slight movement, his hand reaching out to his mother, only for him to pull himself back. 

Taeyong took a small step back, turning around on his heel. He looked like he contemplated walking back to Kun. However, he decided on heading over to the podium at the side for anyone who wanted to speak. 

Seeing that, Kun’s heart clenched. 

All eyes were now on Taeyong, including his grandmother’s who still glared at him like she didn’t want him there – like he didn’t deserve to be there. If anyone tried anything, Kun was there to stand up for Taeyong. He deserved at least this one goodbye, and nothing had the right to get in his way. 

Taeyong cleared his throat, his hands trembling. He looked around, taking in everyone who was in the room, only to stop and look at Kun. 

Kun nodded faintly, a soft smile on his lips as he urged Taeyong to speak his heart. 

“Hello...” Taeyong uttered, swallowing the lump in his throat afterwards. “A lot of you might not know me, or you might not remember me, but I’m Taeyong. Lee Taeyong,” he continued, his voice shaking as he said his full name. 

From the corner of his eyes, Kun noticed Yuta walking inside, taking a seat in one of the spare seats. 

“I’m their son,” Taeyong announced, a pained chuckle leaving him next. “Those who already didn’t know are probably surprised that my parents ever had a kid, I know they’ve spent the past ten years pretending I never existed in the first place so... yeah. But I exist.” 

There were some murmurs from the attendees, however they died out as Taeyong spoke up again. 

“I’ve only ever been to a funeral once; I was young then, but I know I’m supposed to tell some stories about my parents, how great they were, things along those lines,” Taeyong said. “But I’m sure everyone’s done that already, so I’ll... I’ll take a little different approach to the tradition if you don’t mind.” 

Kun smiled, his eyes meeting with Taeyong across the room. 

Taeyong took in a deep breath, letting out a shaky exhale. “There’s a saying that funerals aren’t for the dead, but for the living,” he said. “I agree with that. You know... there’s a lot I never got to say to my parents when they were alive. I regret a lot when it comes to them. They- they loved me,” Taeyong admitted, struggling with the words he wanted to say. 

Just a few minutes in and Kun could hear just how close he was to falling apart, voice becoming frailer by the second. 

“I loved them too,” Taeyong resumed, a hand over his heart. “I loved them so much. They were so- so good. I had a wonderful childhood filled with love and happiness and just so much affection. I’d- I’d bake with my mum, play ball with dad in the garden – he'd usually let me win; he said it would make me believe I could do anything,” he recounted, lips curved up ever so slightly. “I’m not entirely sure if it worked or if it set me up for a lot of disappointment in life. But as I was saying: I had a great childhood. I’m sure there’s plenty of kids out there that would love to have what I had growing up, but everything started going downhill once I turned... twelve?” 

Kun never fully got the whole picture of what happened between Taeyong and his parents, so this would be the first time he heard the full story – or at least fragments of the story Taeyong had to tell. 

“My parents meant well,” Taeyong stated. “They always did. They wanted me to succeed, to have a good life like theirs. I was supposed to go to a good school, find a job, get married, have kids and live a picture-perfect life. And I guess that’s where they went wrong. To them, the ends justified the means, but the means meant I spent days crying, feeling like a failure and everything in between,” he admitted, his hands fidgeting on the podium in front of him. “My grades were everything to them. They cared, but they went about it the wrong way. They didn’t realise that I was... that I was struggling. It got bad. Really bad. And from there it got worse.” 

Taeyong took a pause. He looked to Kun for strength, and Kun was willing to give him absolutely everything he had. 

“I wasn’t what you’d call manly,” he resumed. “I had _girl hobbies_ as my dad put it. Whilst my mum was supportive for a bit, saying that any girl would love a man who can cook and sew, she stopped later on. I was told to man up, to stop acting like a... things I don’t want to repeat. It got to the point where I tried to kill myself – I failed, but I kept thinking about it. Sometimes I still do,” Taeyong admitted, drawing his gaze away from everyone. “So I decided to run away before I succeeded. When I ran away, I left everything behind. My friends, my home, and the only person I’ve ever loved – that I still love to this day.” 

Now it was Kun who wanted to cry. 

“I ran away to a big city without much on me. Though it wasn’t great, at least I was alive. I thought that I finally escaped...” Taeyong sighed, biting down on his cheek. “The thing is, we all have our demons. Mine were still alive, but they haunted me nevertheless. They still do,” Taeyong admitted, sparing a glance at the two open caskets. “I heard and saw my parents practically every day, and sometimes I saw happy memories, but they were mostly bad. I’ve been haunted for years. I hate them,” he finally admitted. “But I also love them. And I hate that I love them. I hate that even after everything they’ve done to me – all the pain they’ve caused me for years – a part of me still loves them.” 

Taeyong’s words were overflowing with despair and remorse, so torn and fragile as he spoke, yet so strong. 

“I’ve spent ten years trying to run away, trying to forget whilst they erased me and my existence completely in what? Weeks? They got rid of their failed child like I was nothing to them in the first place! They didn’t even _try_ to pretend they cared in the end. They lived their lives freely whilst I had to suffer for years because I wasn’t _perfect_. They never once checked up on me, and if I died, I assure you that they’d never show their faces at my grave. I’m sure they’d be happy to get rid of the stain in the family tree,” Taeyong said, tears rolling down his cheeks. Despite that, he didn’t let that stop him. “But I tired! I did what they should have done. I came back here to talk. I saw them. And you know what they did? They turned the other way. They left me in the cold. And you know what I did? I buried my grief in alcohol, so much so I nearly died.” 

“Taeyong...” Kun uttered quietly, his whole body itching to move to Taeyong and to hold him – to protect him for the rest of time. 

“I’m haunted by my parents. I’ve been hurt by them, and when they got off happily like nothing ever happened, I paid the price. And they’re dead. They’re dead, and I’m left here, alone with no goodbye. My last memory of them was them pushing me away,” Taeyong continued, nearing the end of his speech. “They’re dead, and the last time I heard either of them say they loved me was when I was sixteen. They’re dead, and I'm jealous. I’m mad, angry, sad, glad, disappointed. They shouldn’t be dead. They don’t have the right to be dead, not yet. Not before they reached out to me. Not before they say they love me again.” 

The man was speaking through tears, his body trembling as he forced himself together. 

“I can’t let them haunt me like this.” Taeyong looked at the caskets again. “You were...” He wiped his eyes. “You were supposed to be my home- to love me no matter what. But maybe you loved me. _You always hurt the one you love, the one you shouldn't hurt at all._ Maybe you were just scared, confused. I can’t forgive you though. But I can try to move on,” he said, speaking softly, as if to his parents, completely ignoring everyone else in the room. “If I say I love you, can I pretend you loved me too? No matter what?” 

Taeyong smiled sadly, salty tears rushing down his face. 

“Because I love you. So please, don’t haunt me anymore.” 

Just like it had been all this time, the room was silent, though this time it was different. You could hear a pin drop, the slightest shuffle of a coat or a chair. It was deafening. 

Taeyong stepped away from the podium, walking to the caskets where he gave them one last good look before turning away, heading over to Kun. 

The men looked at one another. 

Taeyong walked on ahead, leaving everyone behind. 

Kun remained frozen in place for another minute, only realising that Taeyong had left already when Doyoung cleared his throat. Instantly, he rushed out of his seat, following Taeyong out of the funeral home. 

He hadn’t gone far. 

In fact, he had barely gone anywhere. 

Taeyong was sat on the stairs outside, his body slouched forward, face hidden behind his hands as he cried. 

Kun sat down beside Taeyong, throwing his arm over his shoulder. Taeyong leaned against Kun. He let go of all the tears he had kept under control inside, allowing them to empty him of his grief, his hatred and regret. It would take time – Kun knew that – but Taeyong was one step closer to being free. 

“You did great in there,” Kun reassured, placing a kiss to Taeyong’s forehead. “I’m proud of you. So, so, proud.” 

“I don't wanna be here,” Taeyong uttered meekly, words muffled behind shaky sobs. 

“Okay,” Kun said. “Let’s take you home.” 

*** 

Kun knew he would regret leaving Taeil’s place so late, especially when he said he would stay the night after spending the day studying together. However, as nice as Taeil, his parents and house were, Kun never managed to get any rest there. Taeil lived closer to the town centre; the light from outside were brighter and the sound of people walking about as well as cars were also louder. Kun was so used to his serene surroundings that he simply couldn’t sleep anywhere that wasn’t near to the shore and away from the busy town. 

It was cold outside – freezing even. Despite it being close to summer, the dead of night was still chilly and Kun craved nothing more than to find himself cuddled up in his warm blankets. 

But he still had a way to go. 

He walked and walked, and finally, he arrived at his house. He was just a minute away when he noticed a dark figure at the side of his house. 

His first thought was that someone was trying to break into his house, however, that thought quickly vanished when he noticed Taeyong’s backpack, the keychain attached to the zipper giving away his boyfriend’s identity. 

“Yongie,” Kun called, hush-hush so that he wouldn’t be heard by his parents inside. 

Shocked, Taeyong turned around. He seemed panicked, and even when he saw that it was Kun who called him, he didn’t ease up completely. 

Kun walked over, taking Taeyong’s hands in his. “What are you doing here? I told you I was gonna be at Taeil’s. Or did you miss me that much?” 

Taeyong’s smile was weak. It was completely off. 

“Did something happen? You wanna stay over?” 

“It’s fine,” Taeyong assured, stepping a bit closer towards Kun. “I just needed some fresh air. But I got to see you too.” 

“Lucky you,” Kun joked. But he had to ask. “What’s with the backpack?” 

“I was at the hideout,” Taeyong replied – too fast, but Kun didn’t think much of it. “I took a few things.” 

“That’s sweet,” Kun murmured. “Wanna go on a date tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow?” 

Kun nodded. “Are you busy?” 

Taeyong didn’t respond, his lips parted. He shrugged. “Not sure.” 

“If you are, we can always do something,” Kun said, placing his hands on Taeyong’s waist. “And... my parents are going out tomorrow at six so we’d have the house to ourselves. We can have a date at my place. How does that sound?” 

“That sounds great,” Taeyong replied, a hint of... sadness almost, in his voice. “I love you,” he added. 

“I love you too,” Kun said with a fond smile. “But we should call it a night, Yongie. I’m tired and it’s cold. You should go too, or... you can stay the night, that’s absolutely fine too.” 

“I’ll go,” Taeyong stated. “But...” 

“But?” 

“Can I get a kiss?” 

Kun chuckled, cupping Taeyong’s jaw as he brought their lips together. 

It started slow, gentle, tender. However, Taeyong was impatient. He held Kun’s face in between his hands, slipping his tongue, pushing his body against Kun until there was practically no space left between them. He was desperate. It seemed endearing at the time, and Kun smiled into the kiss, a soft hum coming from the back of his throat. 

It was Kun who pulled away, letting out an amused chuckle. 

“I love you,” Taeyong uttered. 

“I love you too, Yongie.” 

Taeyong stared right into Kun’s eyes, an emotion unknown to Kun hidden in plain sight in Taeyong’s own pupils. 

“I love you,” Taeyong repeated, this time quieter. 

Kun smiled, kissing Taeyong briefly. “I love you too,” he said. “Now go rest. I’ll see you later.” 

“Yeah... Sleep well, Kun,” Taeyong said. 

Despite their goodbyes, Taeyong struggled to let go of Kun. The younger teased him, saying he was being cute. So, he kissed Taeyong again, and they parted ways. 

They waved goodbye and Kun went inside. 

He went to his room, finding it was freezing. 

He never left the windows open, yet there was one open wide. 

Kun went to close it, only to see his boyfriend outside. 

“Taeyong!” He called, catching the boy’s attention. He gave him another wave and blew him a kiss. 

Taeyong did the same. 

And that was the last he would see of Taeyong for years. 

He wished he never said goodbye. 

*** 

“You look great,” Kun assured, stroking down the lapels of Taeyong’s jacket. 

They were already late to the funeral, but that was on purpose. Taeyong had asked if they could skip the mass, only attending the actual burial. Kun saw no issue with that – it's not like he was planning on going to the mass anyway. 

“It’s just this one last thing,” Kun continued, fixing the man’s collar. “Once it’s over, you can take a break. Take all the time you need. You can stay here if you want. I’d be happy if you did.” 

Taeyong smiled, looking at himself in the mirror’s reflection. “You’d be okay with that?” 

Kun scoffed. “I’d be more than okay,” he said, standing behind Taeyong, looking at the both of them in the reflection. He wrapped his arms around Taeyong’s middle, his chin resting atop the man’s shoulder. “I’m not sure if you’ve realised, but I love you.” 

The older chuckled, shaking his head as he grinned. 

“I’d love it if you decided to stay. We could... start again,” Kun said. 

“Can we pick up from where we left off?” Taeyong asked, eyes locked with Kun in the reflection. 

Kun smiled, nodding. “Yeah. Let’s do that.” 

Taeyong looked pleased, placing his hands on top of Kun’s. “I’d have to go back to Seoul though,” he said. “To pack my things, give my resignation notice to work, say goodbye to my friends, break up with my boyfriend.” 

“Cheating on a cheater, huh?” Kun teased. “But to be fair, we never actually broke up. So, technically...” 

Taeyong rolled his eyes. “He’s a dick.” 

“I bet he is,” Kun said. “But you don’t have to see him ever again from now on.” 

Taeyong hummed. “Aren’t you worried though?” 

“About?” 

“This,” Taeyong replied. “Being with me. Having everyone know. What if things don’t work out?” 

“It will,” Kun assured. “I’ve loved you all these years, and apparently so have you. I think we’ll be more than okay. But if it doesn’t,” Kun said with a playful smirk, “and that’s a big if, we’ll have a neighbourly rivalry. I’ll throw eggs at your house from my window and you’ll do the same.” 

Taeyong laughed, the sound utterly heavenly. It was beautiful, and compared to the cries Kun had heard from Taeyong, Kun preferred it by miles. 

“I love you,” Taeyong uttered. 

“I love you too, Yongie.” 

“We should probably leave now, right?” 

Kun nodded. 

“Are we walking or...” 

“I’ll drive,” Kun stated, being met with Taeyong’s face so close to his when the older looked over his shoulder. 

It felt right when their lips met. 

It felt like it was meant to be. 

They didn’t take it far, only keeping their lips pressed against one another, soaking up in the other’s affection. It was exactly what they needed, feeling at home in each other’s loving embrace. 

“Let’s go,” Kun said. 

*** 

The boy fiddled with the bracelet around his wrist as he sat on a collection of large rocks observing the sea. His heart ached and he felt cold, the world becoming devoid of colour and warmth that Taeyong brought to it. 

It had been a week since Taeyong had gone missing and Kun was the last one to see him. 

He blamed himself every day. If he had just picked up on all the obvious signs, maybe he would still have his boyfriend, his best friend, his soulmate, by his side. But he didn’t, and now Taeyong was nowhere to be found. 

Taeyong’s parents weren’t co-operating with the police. Kun had heard them talk. 

_He’ll be eighteen in a few months. He’s an adult. Let him go, there’s no point._

But there was a point. 

Taeyong shouldn’t be alone. He needed affection and warmth. 

And now he was alone. 

Kun hugged his knees to his chest, crying as he prayed for Taeyong to come home. 

*** 

The wind howled, the branches of trees swaying as the breeze passed through them. Kun was shivering, cursing himself for not bringing a warmer jacket with him. 

The burial ceremony was already at its end, but Kun wasn’t really listening to anything that was being said, only caring about the man next to him. 

Taeyong seemed calm – at least calmer when compared to the days leading up to this. He was actively listening and nodding along, a few tears even slipping past him. Kun didn’t expect the burial to go so smoothly, but he was glad. If Taeyong was doing well, then he was glad. 

Kun inched his pinkie towards Taeyong’s hand, smiling when Taeyong accepted the invitation and locked their hands together, not paying any mind to the judging eyes of his grandmother. This wasn’t about her. If she wasn’t happy, then that was fine. Kun was Taeyong’s family now, and that meant that he wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. 

Watching the caskets get lowered down, being buried once and for all with Taeyong’s ghosts, his pain, it must have been a breath of fresh air to the older. 

As Taeyong had said many times; they’re dead. 

Maybe now, Taeyong would get some peace. After so many years, it was the least he deserved. 

Peace. 

If he couldn’t have a family – a picture-perfect one – then he deserved peace. 

One by one, the attendees of the funeral walked up to throw dirt over the coffins, offering their parting words. And, soon enough, it was Taeyong’s turn. 

Kun stepped to the side, watching as Taeyong bent down, taking a handful of earth. 

“Goodbye,” Taeyong said. 

Those were his final words. 

The man pushed himself up, wiping his hands clean on his coat. He nodded as he moved away, allowing Kun to kneel and grab a fistful of the dirt. 

“I’ll take care of him,” Kun uttered. “I hope you’re watching, wherever you are. Your son... he’ll be fine. I promise. Now, goodbye.” He tossed the dirt and made his way over to Taeyong. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Taeyong replied, looking down at Kun’s hands, reaching for them. “I’m okay. I feel...” Taeyong smiled, looking at Kun with those wonderful, glimmering eyes. “Light,” he explained. “Free. I hope it stays that way.” 

“Me too, Yongie,” Kun said, brushing Taeyong’s cheek, wiping away the wet streak left from his tears. “How about we go home? Our home.” 

Taeyong nodded, a light laugh leaving his lips. “Let’s go home.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I hope you're doing well. So... yeah. I don't know where this even came from but once I started writing I just went on and on. Somewhere in the middle I just started projecting myself more and more onto Taeyong. As a closeted gay living with not the most accepting parents who, despite saying they're not religious, still hold the polish catholic values so ingrained in the society they grew up in, I ended up trying to express my own feelings towards my parents. And, if I'm being honest, I don't think I succeeded. If I was in Taeyong's place at the wake and funeral, I don't think I'd manage to say what he has. I'm sure nobody's that interest, but this story ended up being quite personal to me. So no, this isn't yet another angsty gay story written by yet another het.
> 
> I hope you were able to enjoy this, if not then that's fine. And if you're a fellow closeted gay kid, hi.
> 
> See you around.
> 
> My [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/teniljohnyong)  
> My [ CuriousCat](https://curiouscat.me/teniljohnyong)  
> 


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